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M C CLURE’S 

MAGAZINE 


JANUARY 1909 • FIFTEEN CENTS 

plDplfi^ 



MRS. HUMPHRY WARD S 
NEW NOVEL 

“MARRIAGE A LA MODE" 


THE TREATY OF PORTS¬ 
MOUTH BY 

GENERAL KUROPATKIN 


JACK LONDON S GREAT 
SOUTH SEA STORY 

THE EXPERIENCES OF A 
SALOONKEEPER 


iriirag S.S.M C CLURE COMPANY 

* - ,l — 11 — 13 FORTY-FOUR. EAST TWENTY-THIRD STREET N Y 

TEN NORFOLK STREET STRAND LONDON ENGLAND 












































f INSTEAD OF M 
COURT PLASTER 


chapped hands, burns, 
bruises, split lips and fingers, 
blisters,etc., and immediately 
relieves frost bites and chil¬ 
blains. 

Mothers find satisfaction 
in New-Skin because it 
helps solve so many little 
troubles in the home. It is 
the all ’round remedy for 
scratches, bruises and little 
“ hurts” 


SSew-bRin has come 
into almost universal family 
use because it is absolutely 
harmless and easy to apply. 

In every way it is superior 
to ordinary court plaster. It 
is antiseptic. It kills germs. 
It prevents infection by 
keeping the wound clean. It 
is quickly and easily applied. 
It does not wash off. 

New - Skin heals cuts, 

Insist on getting NEIV-SKIN 

NEWSKIN 
COMPANY 


Ihree size s— 
10, 25 and 50 Cent— 
at all dru ggists 
or sent by mail. 


DEPT. H, NEW YORK 


“MAX£/r 
h W£LL 
!MAZfA'\ 


WATERPROOF 

Liquid Court 
.Plaster, 


^MrutPTic AStmC 
» cut* 


!>NEWSKIN COMPANY 
























































































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


Tiffany & Co. 

Equipment for Entertaining 

Tiffany & Co. are now offering, in their various departments, a 
complete stock of articles for table service and for decoration 
A few items of interest, taken from the 1909 Blue Book, are 
enumerated below 

Silver tableware for the various courses: Bouillon spoons, fish 
knives, individual asparagus tongs, lettuce forks, ice cream 
'spoons, lobster picks, berry forks, serving pieces, hors d’oeuvre 
dishes, salad bowls, after-dinner coffee services, etc. 

Plates in dozens for separate courses: A remarkable collection 
including exclusive decorations from the famous potteries of 
Europe. Ramekins with or without silver holders 

Afternoon Tea Services: Silver tea sets and kettles, tea cups in 
Minton, Cauldon, Doulton, and other famous wares; muffineers, 
bon-bon dishes, teak-wood stands and tables 

Cut Glass for the Table and Sideboard: Celery trays, compotiers, 
fruit dishes, sandwich trays, cocktail sets, lemonade pitchers, punch 
bowls, sugar and cream sets, finger bowls and plates, etc. 

Chafing dishes in silver or silver plate, with trays, spoons, and 
other accessories 

Individual sets for chocolate, coffee or tea, for breakfast service 
Round or oval trays in silver or silver plate ; candle sticks, and 
vases for table decoration 

Tiffany & Co. invite out-of-town patrons to avail themselves of 
the facilities of their Correspondence Department, and to write 
for a copy of the 1909 Blue Book. This is a catalogue of Tiffany 
& Co.’s stock, and gives the maximum and minimum prices of 
the articles listed above, as well as of many others of similar 
character. The Blue Book is helpful in affording suggestions as 
to purchases, and in assisting in the comparison of prices, which 
is always welcomed by the house 

Upon advice as to requirements with limit of price, Tiffany & Co. 
will send photographs, cuts or descriptions of what their stock 
affords. An assortment of articles will be sent on approval to 
persons known to the house or to those who will make them¬ 
selves known by satisfactory references 

Fifth Avenue and 37th Street, New York 





McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 




Smmm 


PIANO 


In Concert Halls a P wor ^ s g r . eatest 

pianists use the Steinway 
when at the height of their artistic career. It is their 
first and only choice, when a free and unbiased choice 
has been made, a choice uninfluenced by modem com¬ 
mercial methods, and prompted only by a desire and 
a need for the best the world can give them. 

In Royal Palaces Ste '? wa x is the c i losen 

nano. INo other piano house 
has been and is so signally honored by Royalty as the 
house of Stein way. No other piano has met with the 
approval that has been accorded the Steinway by the 
royal and imperial houses of the old world. 

In Private Homes Steinw fy P iano is the 

choice or the cognoscenti 
the world over, treasured as one of the most precious 
Household Gods, a necessary essential of the refined 
home. Its very possession puts the seal of supreme 
approval upon the musical taste of its owner, for it denotes 
the highest degree of culture and musical education. 


Steinway Pianos can be 
bought of any authorised. 
Stein way dealer at New 
York prices , with cost of 
transportation added . Illus¬ 
trated catalogue and prices 
sent on request and mention 
of this magazine. 


MINIATURE GRAND 
EBONIZEO CASE 
PRICE taoo 


STEINWAY & SONS, 

Steinway Mall, 

107 and 109 East 14th St., New York 


Subway Express Station at the Door . 






M C CLURE’S MAGAZINE 


SAMUEL S. McCLURE 
President 


CAMERON MACKENZIE 
Secretary and Treasurer 

44 East Twenty-third Street, New York 


CONTENTS FOR JANUARY 1909 


VOLUME XXXII NUMBER 3 


FRONTISPIECE: DRAWING BY F. WALTER TAYLOR 

MARRIAGE A LA MODE. A Novel .... 

Illustrated with a drawing by F. Walter Taylor; see Frontispiece 


THE TREATY AT PORTSMOUTH 
Illustrated with photographs 

THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI. A Story 

Illustrations by Wladyslaw T. Benda 

A SPANISH TOWN. A Poem 

THE HOPELESS CASE. A Story . 


SANTY-LAN’. A Poem 

Decoration by Frederic Dorr Steele 


THE APPEAL OF THE STAGE 

MOONRISE AT MALAGA. A Poem 

VERONIKA AND THE ANGELINOS. A Story 
Illustrations by Frederic R. Gruger 


PAGE 

MRS. HUMPHRY WARD 225 

GENERAL KUROPATKIN 237 

. JACK LONDON 247 

S. GRISWOLD MORLEY 260 
R. F. FOSTER 261 
ROSALIE M. JONAS 267 


. JAMES L. FORD 268 
FLORENCE WILKINSON 276 
CASPAR DAY 277 


WILD HORSES . 

Illustrated with photographs 


WILL C. BARNES 285 


SHABOGAN. A Story * . ORIC BATES 295 

THE MERCHANTS’ CALL. A Poem ....... GEORGIANA GODDARD KING 300 

THE EXPERIENCE AND OBSERVATIONS OF A NEW YORK SALOON-KEEPER .301 

VIOLA ROSEBORO’ 313 


THE CASE OF HENRI PASSALAIGUE. A Story 
Illustrations by F. B. Masters 

THE MORTALITY OF OVERWEIGHTS AND UNDERWEIGHTS 
THE LION AND THE TWO MacCARTHYS. A Story 
EDITORIAL: THE KUROPATKIN MEMOIRS . 


BRANDRETH SYMONDS, A M., M.D 319 
. CATHERINE MARKHAM 328 
336 


Entered as Second-class Matter at New York, New York. Copyright, 1908. Published monthly by The S. S. McClure Co., New 
York. Subscription terms : In the U. S., Mexico, Cuba, and American Possessions, $1.50 per year. In Canada $2.00 per year. In all other 
countries in the Postal Union $2.50 per year. An order blank inclosed with the magazine is notice that your subscription has expired. 

/ 

THE S. S. McCLURE COMPANY NEW YORK,- NEW YORK 

FOURTH AVE. & 23d ST., NEW YORK 10 NORFOLK ST., STRAND, LONDON, ENG. 











McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


fiJt *< -r* / x . 
T. •• •' - ■- v 





-. ♦ -U- 


This is the sign! 

Look for the Genasco trade-mark 
on every roll. This insures your 
getting the roofing made of real 
Trinidad Lake Asphalt—the perfect 
natural waterproofer— 

Genasco 

Ready Roofing 

Ask your dealer for Genasco—the roofing backed by a thirty-two- 
million-dollar guarantee. Don’t be misled by any other sign. Insist on 
the Hemisphere trade-mark, and get the roofing that lasts. Mineral or 
smooth surface. 

Write for samples and the Good Roof Guide Book. 

THE BARBER ASPHALT PAVING COMPANY 


New York 


Largest producers of asphalt and largest 
manufacturers of ready roofing in the world 

PHILADELPHIA 

San Francisco 


Chicago 


View of Trinidad Asphalt" Lake, British West Indies 
The part that looks like land is asphalt, the streams are surface water 





A 




















M'CLURES 

MAGAZINE 


Guide to McClure’s Marketplace 


If each copy of this January number is read by three 
people, it is safe to say that considerably more than a million 
people will see at least part of the contents of this issue. 

The advertisers, whose announcements can easily be 
located by the following Index, really pay part of the cost 
of this magazine for you. 

They believe McClure’s readers are good customers and 
they expect that a goodly number will invest in their offer¬ 
ings, either now or after more or less thorough investigation 
or examination. 

They can afford to advertise only reliable goods and we 
can afford to have no other kind within our pages. 


Architecture 

Keith, Max L.58 

Keith Co., The.69 

Petersen, Jens C. ... 59 

Art 

Perry Pictures Co. 16c 

Automobiles and Accessories 


Consolidated Rubber Tire 

Co.55 

Continental Caoutchouc Co. 53 

Elmore Mfg. Co.48 

Franklin Mfg. Co., H. H. 49 

Jeffrey Co., Thomas B. 52 

Locomobile Co., of America 50 

Olds Motor Works ... 51 

Pierce Co., Geo. N.. . 4th cover 

Premier Motor Mfg. Co. . . 54 

Times Square Automobile Co. 54 

Winton Motor Carriage Co. . 47 

Banking and Financial 

American Real Estate Co. . 73 

Bankers Trust Co. 91 

Empire State Surety Co. . 58 

Fidelity & Casualty Co. 40 


Yours sincerely, 




Advertising Manager. 


First National Bank 74 

Fulton Trust Co. . 46 

Hanauer-Graves Co. . 41 

Monaton Realty Co. 41 

Bath Room Fixtures 

Standard Sanitary Co. . . 90 

Building and Construction 

Barrett Mfg. Co.35 

Bird & Co., J. A. & W. . . 45 

Cabot, Samuel.46 

Caldwell Co., W. E. 41 

Genasco Roofing .... 4 

Kewanee Water Supply Co. . 68 

Rider-Ericsson Engine Co. . 46 

Sargent & Co.44 


Cameras 

Eastman Kodak Co. ... 36 

Cutlery and Strops 


American Safety Razor Co. 37 

Gillette Sales Co.25 

Maher & Grosh Co. ... 55 

Rundel Sales Co.54 


Educational 


American Academy cf Dra¬ 
matic Arts.]6 

American Collection Service 16c 
American School of Cor. . . 63 

Bissell College of Photo- 

Engraving .] 6 

Bryant, F. A.]('o 

Carlton Academy .... 16 

Chicago Cor. School . . . 16a 

Chicago Correspondence 

School of Law .... ] 6c 

Chicago School of Elocution 16c 
Columbian Correspondence 

College.16 

Correspondence Institute of 

America . 16a 

Cross Co.16a 

Detroit School of Lettering . 16b 

Evans School of Cartooning, 

W.L.. 1C c 

Fine Arts Institute . . . Kb 

Illinois College of Photog¬ 
raphy .16 

International Cor. Schools . 27 

Interstate School of Corre¬ 
spondence . 16b 


When you write to these advertisers please mention McClure’s. 




5 





















McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 


Johnson Art School . . . 16a 

Language-Phone Method . 16a 

Lederer School of Drawing 16b 
Michigan Business Institute 16c 
Mount Pleasant Academy . 16 

National Correspondence In¬ 
stitute .16b 

National Press Association 16-16b 
National Training Salesman's 

Association.16a 

N. W. School of Taxidermy 72 
Page-Davis School . . . 16c 

Porter Military Academy . 16 

Powell, George H. ... 16b 

Ransom, C. W.16b 

School of Applied Art . . 16c 

Sprague Correspondence 

School of Law .... 16c 

St. Louis Trade School . . 16b 

Swarthmore Prep. School . 16 

Universal Business Institute 16c 
University Extension Law 

School.16c 

University of Chicago . . 16 


Fire Arms 

Colt's Patent Fire-Arms . . 70 

Hopkins & Allen Arms Co. . 59 

Food Products 


Atwood Company ... 80 

Baker Importing Co. . . 88 

Blooker's Cocoa ... 81 

Hawaiian Pineapple Grow¬ 
ers' Association .... 87 

Johnson Educator Food Co. 81 

Knox, Charles B.81 

Liebig Extract.84 

National Biscuit Co. ... 89 

Shredded Wheat Co. . 3rd Cover 
Welch Grape Juice Co. . . 83 

For the Home 

Burrowes Co , E. T. . . . 40 

Parkhurst & Son Co., J. F. . 36 

Simplex Electric Heating Co. 80 

Stallman, F. A.82 

Furniture 

Globe-Wernicke Co. ... 38 

International Mfg. Co. . . 58 

Karpen & Bros., S. . . . 24 

Heating and Lighting Systems 

American Radiator Co. . . 23 

Angle Mfg. Co. 72 

Best Light Co.59 

Peck-Williamson Co. . . 30 

Superior Mfg. Co. 58 

Welsbach Co.34 


House Furnishings 

Hartshorn Shade Roller . 38 

Household Supplies 

Bon Ami.. . . . 17 

Collette Mfg. Co.82 

When you write 


Cudahy Packing Co. ... 29 

Electro Silicon Co. ... 84 

Pearline. 22 

X-Ray Stove Polish ... 46 

Incubators 

Cyphers Incubator Co. . . 74 

Sheer, H. M.55 

Insurance (Fire & Life) 

Hartford Fire Insurance Co. 86 

Prudential Insurance Co. . 16d 

Jewelry and Silverware 

Alvin Mfg. Co. 36 

Brock & Feagans .... 82 

Burlington Watch Co. 69 

Gregg Mfg. & Importing Co. 82 
Loftis Bros. & Co. ... 38 

Meriden Britannia Co. 66 

Tiffany & Co. 1 


Junior Typewriter Co. . . 65 

Richmond & Backus . . 74 

Rockwell-Barnes Co. . . 5 g 

Typewriter Emporium . . 70 

Weis Mfg. Co. 67 

Publishers 

American Magazine ... 14 

Arlington Street Church . 16c * 

Doubleday, Page & Co., 10-11-12 * 
Lincoln History Society . .12-15 

Lupton, F. M.16b 

McClure's History Club . .76-77 

McClure's Tourists' Agency 13 
Puritan Publishing Co. . . 16b 
Woman’s World .... 71 

Seeds 

Burpee & Co., W. A. . . . 72 

Ferry & Co., D. M. . . . 83 

Storrs & Harrison Co. . 83 

Shoes 


Miscellaneous 

Amusement Supply Co. . 
Barnes, W. F. & Jno. 
Berkshire Hills Sanatorium 

Black Mfg. Co. 

Buffalo Lithia Water 
Chicago Projecting Co. . 
Chesebrough Mfg. Co. 
Cocroft, Susanna . . . 

Cutler Mfg. Co. . . . 

Evans, Wilkens Co. . . 

Farwell & Rhines . . . 

General Acoustic Co. . . 

General Compressed Air and 
Vacuum Machine Co. . 
Jenkinson Co., R. & W. . 
Judson Freight Co. . . 

Lee Electric Insole Co. 

Lord & Thomas 
McAllister & Co. . . . 

Newskin Co.2d 

Oakland Chemical Co. 

Ohio Electric Works . 

Oliver Mfg. Co. . . . 

Page Wire Fence Co. 

Potter Drug & Chemical Co 

Press Co. .. 

Quoin Club. 

Schieffelin & Co. 

Springfield Metallic Casket 

Co. 

Stolz Electrophone Co. 
Vapo-Cresolene . . 


70 

58 
60 
74 
60 
81 
74 
61 
57 

74 

59 

59 

75 
63 

60 
62 

32-33 

83 
Cover 

85 
81 
72 
59 
62 
55 
78 
62 

44 
61 

84 


Musical Instruments, Etc. 

Columbia Phonograph Co. .20-21 

Lyon & Healy.70 

National Phonograph Co . 94 

Steinway & Sons ... 2 

Universal Talking Machine 

Co. . 80 

Victor Talking Machine Co. 18-19 

Office Equipment 

Automatic Adding Machine 
Co. 72 


Consolidated Mfg. Co. . . 58 

Putman & Co., H. J. . . . 72 

Sporting Goods, Games, Etc. 

Fay & Brown Engine Co. . 70 

U. S. Playing Card Co. . . 39 

Winslow Skate Co. . . 54 

Stationery 

American Writing Paper Co. 26 
Eaton, Crane & Pike . . 39 

Hampshire Paper Co. . . 65 

Mittineague Paper Co. . . 82 

Toilet Articles 

Colgate & Co. 68 

Daggett & Ramsdell ... 61 

Fairbank Co., The N. K. . 7 

Fowler's Florimel Lotion . 60 

LaBlache Face Powder . . 60 

Mennen's Toilet Powder . 40 

Travel 

Chicago & Alton R. R. . . 56 

Chicago & N. W. R. R. . . 56 

Clark, F. C.74 

Marsters, Geo. E.79 

North German Lloyd . . 57 

Oceanic S. S. Co.79 

Pine Forest Inn .... 56 

Rock Island System ... 42 

Santa Fe.28 

Seaboard Air Line Ry. . . 43 

Southern Pacific Co. ... 56 

Where-To-Go-Bureau . . 79 


Wearing Apparel 

Arlington Mfg. Co. 

Best & Co. 

Cluett-Peabody & Co. 
Cooper Mfg. Co. . . 

Crofut & Knapp Co. . 
Crosby, Frisian Fur Co. 
Hewes & Potter . . 
Holeproof Hosiery Co. 
Reversible Collar Co. 


67 
22 
92-93 
66 
37 
64 
64 
31 
64 


to these advertisers please mention McClure's. 


6 











































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



People with Common Sense pay but five 
common Cents for a soap with no common 
Scents. Fairy Soap (the floating, oval cake) is 
white and pure, with no scents or dyes 
to disguise adulterations; it costs but m 
five cents . Avoid dyed soaps! fy 


THE N. K. FAIRBANK COMPANY 
CHICAGO. 


Have You a Little ‘Fairy’ in Your Home? 
















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


McClure’s for February 


“CLEVELAND THE MAN” 

By GEORGE F. PARKER 

^MONG the few men who knew Grover Cleveland well was 
Mr. George F. Parker, who, beginning in the February 
number, will contribute a series of articles to McClure’s Maga¬ 
zine dealing with “Cleveland the Man.” Mr. Parker writes from 
first-hand knowledge ; his acquaintanceship with Mr. Cleveland 
began in 1888 and continued until the ex-President’s death. So 
close were their relations that Mr. Parker is in a position to give 
authoritatively not only Mr. Cleveland’s personal characteristics, 
but his views on men and public questions in his own words. 

“MARRIAGE A LA MODE” 

By MRS. HUMPHRY WARD 

T HE second instalment of Mrs. Ward’s novel is a brilliant 
picture of Washington society. Her description of a White 
House reception will arouse comment on both sides of the At¬ 
lantic, and her wonderful impressionistic study of President 
Roosevelt will probably endure as the most eloquent and spirited 
of his portraits. 

SIX SHORT STORIES 


“ CAMILLA’S MARRIAGE” 
“THE BOY” 

“JIM’S DUDE ” 

“JACK DID IT” 

“THE RIGHT TO LIVE” 


By Mary S. Watts 
By Robert Sloss 
By Caroline Lockhart 
By Hugh Wakefield 
By Joseph Kocheli 


“A LITTLE SPECULATION OF THE U. P. A.” By Adele Marie Shaw 


8 


















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


McClure’s for February 


“THE TRANSPLANTING OF ORGANS” 

Experiments at the Rockefeller Institute 
By BURTON J. HENDRICK 

TN his first article on the Rockefeller Institute, Mr. Hendrick will 
describe the wonders in vascular surgery which have been performed 
by Dr. Alexis Carrel. This article is the first authentic and accurate 
account of the remarkable experiments which have been performed by 
Dr. Carrel in transplanting the internal organs of animals. The kidneys 
of one cat are transferred to another, where they perform their functions 
perfectly. 


“OUR NAVY ON THE LAND” 

By GEORGE KIBBE TURNER 

THE Navy on the water has been discussed at great length, and now 
-*■ Mr. Turner takes up “Our Navy on the Land,” which constitutes 
the greatest financial burden of the American people ; the story of an 
incredible waste of national funds. 


“ALCOHOL AND SOCIETY” 

By HENRY SMITH WILLIAMS 

T"\R. WILLIAMS’ articles on Alcohol have aroused so much controversy 
^ and have been the subject of so much correspondence and of so many 
inquiries, that he has consented to write a third article, defining his position 
upon the responsibility of society toward the manufacture and sale of alcohol. 


“AN AUDIENCE WITH LINCOLN” 

By T. B. BANCROFT 

r T"' WICE a week Lincoln set apart an hour or two to hear petitioners, great 
and small, who came to lay their cases before him. From this public 
audience the most lowly were not excluded. Mr. Bancroft shows with what 
patience and discrimination the great President heard and considered these 
petitions, and with what sternness he turned away the dishonest petitioner. 


9 





McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


I 

I 

i 


Announcement 

N January i, 1909, Doubleday, Page & Company begins its 
ninth year of business, and we wish at this time to announce 
that we have purchased the entire book business of The 
McClure Company and will hereafter issue all of the volumes 
formerly published by that company (except the Burton Holmes Travelogues), 
as well as the new works already announced by them. 

Mr. S. S. McClure, who built up this fine list, including 245 writers and 
411 separate titles, representing many of our best modern authors, wishes to 
devote all of his time to McClure's Magazine. While we count ourselves 
most fortunate in being able to add this important and very active cata¬ 
logue to our own, we are equally pleased to be able to sav that we shall have 
Mr. McClure’s help in securing new writers, and the co-operation of his 
great magazine, which has always had among its contributors authors of fame 
and distinction. 

Among the newest McClure books are the following: 



Stewart Edward White 

The Riverman 

Nowin its Fourth Edition. The successor to 
“ The Blazed Trail M —a fine, full-blooded story 
of the Northwest lumber country. 

Illustrations. $ l .50 

Also by Mr. White: 

ARIZONA NIGHTS THE BLAZED TRAIL 

LSO THE SILENT PLACES 1 - 50 
THE MYSTERY L5 ° CONJUROR’S HOUSE 
1.50 THE CLAIM JUMPERS L25 

THE MOUNTAINS L5 ° THE FORESTS 
Net, 1.60 Net, 1.60 


Booth Tarkington 

The Guest of Quesnay 

An exquisite love-story of Normandy that is 
compared by most critics with (t Beaucaire,” 
and said by many to excel even that delightful 
masterpiece. 

Second Edition. Illustrations. $1.50 
Also by Mr. Tarkington: 

MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 

1.25 

THE TWO VANREVELS 

1.50 

THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA 

1.50 


C. M. and A. M. Williamson 

The Motor Maid 

(In Preparation) 


The newest Williamson novel—a sparkling, sprightly and engaging romance that is fully equal 
to their best work. 

Also by the Williamsons: 

THE PRINCESS VIRGINIA LADY BETTY ACROSS THE WATER 

L5 ° ROSEMARY IN SEARCH OF A FATHER L5 ° 

THE CHAPERON THE CAR OF DESTINY 1.50 MY FRIEND THE CHAUFFEUR 

1.50 1.50 1.50 


io 














McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 


O. Henry 

The Gentle Grafter 

The new book of stories by this inimitable humorist and 
short-story writer. In his field O. Henry stands alone. 

Illustrations. $ 1.00 

Also by O. Henry : 

THE FOUR MILLION THE TRIMMED LAMP 

L0 ° CABBAGES AND KINGS 1 - 00 
THE VOj^CE OF THE CITY HEART OF THE WEST 
1.00 1.50 

Anthony Hope 

The Great Miss Driver 

Mr. Hope’s new long novel deals with one of the most 
striking heroines in recent fiction. The book is thorough¬ 
ly worthy of the author of “ Zenda.” 

Ill ust rations. $1.50 

Also by Anthony Hope : 

LOVE’S LOGIC 1.25 HELENA’S PATH 1.25 

DOUBLE HARNESS 1.50 TRISTRAM OF BLENT 1.50 

Ida M. Tarbell 

Life of Abraham Lincoln 

The coming Lincoln centenary brings into renewed prom¬ 
inence the most authoritative and exhaustive life of Lincoln 
in existence. Miss Tarbell’s is the standard Lincoln. 

Two volumes. Illustrated. $5.00 

Also by Ida M. Tarbell; 

THE HISTORY OF THE STANDARD OIL COMPANY 
NAPOLEON 2.50 Net 5 ‘ 00 MADAME ROLAND 

HE KNEW LINCOLN Net 50C. 1 - 50 

Mary Stewart Cutting 

The Wayfarers 

A fine and sincere novel of American life that has fully 
realized the highest expectations of the admirers of Mrs. 
Cutting’s short stories. Illustrated. $1.50 
Also by Mrs. Cutting : 

.LITTLE STORIES OF MARRIED LIFE 1.25 
THE SUBURBAN WHIRL 1.25 
LITTLE STORIES OF COURTSHIP 1.25 

MORE STORIES OF MARRIED LIFE 1.25 

Myra Kelly 

Little Citizens 

The fame it, book of stories of the school children of 
New York’s East Side, now in its tenth edition. $ 1.50 

Wards of Liberty 

The companion volume to “ Little Citizens,” dealing 
with the same types and introducing many of the same 
characters. $I % 50 


A. Conan Doyle 

Round the Fire Stories 

A full-sized volume of short stories by this very great 
writer representing the best of his recent literary output. 

Frontispiece. $ 1.50 

Also by A. Conan Doyle : 

SIR NIGEL THE ADVENTURES OF GERARD 

1.50 T hE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES -*.-50 
1.50 

THE GREEN FLAG THE CROXLEY MASTER 50c. 
1.50 THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES 
1.25 

Joseph Conrad 

The Point of Honor 

A brilliant tale of the Napoleonic era by one of the most 
prominent of the younger English writers. 

Illustrations in colors. $ 1.25 

Also by Joseph Conrad : 

ROMANCE 1.50 YOUTH 1.50 

LORD JIM 1.50 FALK 1.50 

Kate Douglas Wiggin and 

Nora Archibald Smith 

Editors of “The Children's Classics” 

Tales of Laughter 

The latest addition to the well-known Children’s Class¬ 
ics, containing brief stories gathered from every accessible 
source, and designed to entertain and amuse the child. 

In the Series : 

GOLDEN NUMBERS THE POSY RING 

2.00 THE FAIRY RING -**25 

MAGIC CASEMENTS 1 - 50 PINAFORE PALACE 

1.50 1.50 

George Madden Martin 

Emmy Lou: Her Book and 
Heart 

The sweetest, dearest book of the century—a classic of 
child life that has found a secure place in the hearts of 
thousands of readers. Fifteenth Edition. $1.50 
Also by George Madden Martin ; 

THE HOUSE OF FULFILMENT 1.50 
LETITIA: NURSERY CORPS, U. S. A. 1.50 

Joel Chandler Harris 

Told by Uncle Remus 

The last of the incomparable Uncle Remus books, with 
illustrations by A. B. Frost. Fourth Edition. $2.00 
Also by Joel Chandler Harris : 

A LITTLE UNION SCOUT 1.25 
WALLY WANDEROON Net 1.60 

GABRIEL TOLLIVER 1.50 

privilege of five days' exam- 
in ation b efo re rem itting. 


ny of these titles will 
e sent on approval with 


(!) 


Thf WofilD' 1 Wo nx 


© 


Doubleday Page &Co. New York. 


ii 












McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


Two Reaiiy Great Biographies 


Ellen 

Terry 

The foremost actress on the 
English-speaking stage 


The Story of My Life 

Illustrations reproduced from rare portraits and famous paintings . 
Net , $3*50 (postage 23 cents') 

So intimate and charming an addition to biographical literature as 
Ellen Terry’s memoirs has not appeared in years. They are the 
recollections, written with refreshing simplicity and candor, of one of 
the best known and best loved characters on the stage, the intimate 
associate of such men and women as Henry Irving, Eleanor Duse, 
Bernhardt, Whistler, Sargent, Burne-Jones, of Tennyson and Ros¬ 
setti, Browning and Charles Reade. 


Carl 

Schurz 

Publicist, orator, reformer, 
friend of seven administra¬ 
tions 


Reminiscences Volume 3 

Volume j>, fully illustrated. Net , $3.00 ( postpaid , $3.25). The 
set , 3 volumes , net , $Q.oo ( postpaid , $g.7o) 

With the publication of the third volume of the Schurz memoirs 
has been completed one of the most noble lives lived on American 
soil. From the voluminous notes which General Schurz left at his 
death, the historian Frederic Bancroft, and William A. Dunning, 
have brought the work to a successful conclusion from Grant’s ad¬ 
ministration, their admirable biography of Carl Schurz’s later achieve¬ 
ments occupying probably one-half of Volume Three. 


Court 1 it Lire 
IN AKKUCA 



VmeV ftmLD'sWo ax 



tVry Gardes 
Magazike 


Doubleday Page &Co. New York. 


LINCOLN MEMORIAL BUST 



T HE approaching Lincoln Centenary (1909) has aroused 
a new interest in everything pertaining to Abraham 
Lincoln and has awakened throughout the country a 
desire for some permanent and suitable memorial of that 
great statesman. 

Such a memorial is presented in this splendid bust of 
Lincoln by one of the best known American sculptors, 
Miss Clara Hill. 

The original was made in Paris in collaboration with 
Augustus St. Gaudens, the creator of the great statue of 
Lincoln in Chicago, on a commission from the United States 
Government. It is now in the Capitol at Washington. 

The original has never before been reproduced except 
by Tiffany & Co., who selected it in preference to all other 
busts of Lincoln. 

A special arrangement has been made with the United 
States Government by which the bust can be reproduced 
for the schools of America. This reproduction is made by a 
new method, greatly reducing the cost. The bust is cast solid 
in Florentine stone and by electrolysis covered with a heavy 
bronze patina. The result is a bust as permanent and durable as marble and as artistic as bronze. 

In order that as many as possible may avail themselves of this opportunity to secure it for the 
Lincoln Centenary, the bust will be sold at a special rate to any school br public institution ordering 
before the Centennial Anniversary of Lincoln’s birth, February 12, 1909. To those so ordering 
the price will be $30.00 cash, f. o. b. New York. To all others the price will be $50.00. 

Further information on application. 


Dimensions : Heighty 21 inches ; widths 21 ijiches. 


LINCOLN HISTORY SOCIETY : 44 East 23d Street, New York 


I 


T 2 




























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



A TOUR OF THE WORLD 

for a Few Cents a Day! 

If you cannot spare the time or money to travel in for¬ 
eign lands; 

If you have not visited any or all of the foreign countries 
and cities you would like to visit; 

If you appreciate that to be well informed you must 
have a knowledge of foreign countries and cities as they 
are to-day; 

If you realize that nothing is half so interesting, fas¬ 
cinating and instructive as travel in distant lands — 

Write us to-day 

We Will Bring Travel to You in the 

Burjon Holm ^5 



N OTHING approaching this work was ever attempted before. In a series of 
splendid journeys Mr. Holmes unfolds before your eyes the beauties of 
travel in Foreign Lands, with such narrative skill, with so many strange 
experiences, incidents and humorous episodes and so admirably illustrated 
by over 4,000 photographs taken on the spot by Mr. Holmes himself, as 
to carry you in spirit over 22,000 miles of travel, through thirty of the 
most interesting countries and cities of the world. 

Y OU know, of course, who BURTON HOLMES is. The 
phenomenal success of his lectures has gained for him a 
world-wide reputation. His lectures in book form are 
not condensed, but on the contrary give a more complete de- /^ 

scription and are more profusely illustrated than would be 
possible in the lectures from the platform. 

/ T would cost you $ 50,000 and many years of your time to take 
these journeys; hut don't take our word for it— Write Us 
To-Day arid we will send you a beautifully illustrated 
booklet containing sample pages and color plates — a full 
description of the work y and tell you how you may secure 
the Travelogues for a few cents a day. 

MAIL THE COUPON NOW W** 

McClure’s Tourists’ Agency 
44 to 60 East 23d St., New York City 


Jan. 
McClure’s 


McClure’s 
Tourists’ 
Agency 

44 East 23d Street, New York Gty 


Gentlemen: I am interested 
in the Burton Holmes Trav¬ 
elogues and will be glad to 
receive specimen pages in colors and to 
learn the terms upon which 1 can secure 
the ten handsome volumes referred to in 
the foregoing advertisement. 


Name 
Address 


13 



























McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 



MAGAZINE 

CONDUCTED BY UOMN -S. PM I J_ I_I P 3 

Contains the first of an important political series by William 
Allen White, called “ The Old Order Changeth.” It tells 
what has been accomplished in the Nation and the States 
during the period of agitation we’ve been going through. 

The facts have been gathered from all over the country. 

You will wonder with pride at the splendid efficiency of an 
aroused people, as presented in these clear, wise and humanly 
interesting articles. 

This is only one feature of the rich program of the 
American Magazine for 1909. One year — one dollar. 



The Phillips Publishing Company, 341 Fifth Ave., New York City 


14 















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


THE TRUE STORY 
OF LINCOLN’S LIFE 

T HE most interesting, the most accurate, the best life-story 
of the greatest man this country has produced, the first 
really great American born and bred of our own native soil. 

Life of Abraham Lincoln 

IDA M. TARBELL 

Four Splendid Volumes Lavishly Illustrated 

Miss Tarbell’s Life of Lincoln is not merely a chronicle of 
the statesman, the lawyer and the President, but the story of 
Lincoln the man. It tells the wonderfully fascinating 
story of the struggles, triumphs and tragic death of our 
first and greatest countryman. 

The Graphic Life-story of one of the 
Greatest Men the World has Produced 

It appeals to every American because it tells the 
story as it has never before been told, of the rise of the 
“Rail-splitter” to the Presidency at that time in our his¬ 
tory when our life as a nation hung on his statesmanship 

MR. DANA’S OPINION OF IT 

The late Chas. A. Dana, the famous editor of the New York Sun , and 
who, as assistant Secretary of War, was intimately associated with Lincoln, 
selected Tarbell’s Early Life of Lincoln (the only volume of the present great 
work then ready) to be one of ten books indispensable to every one of 
American origin. 

NEW AND IMPORTANT FEATURES 


New Facts regarding Lincoln’s parentage. 
New Light on his life as a boy, farm hand, 
storekeeper, politician, statesman. 

The True Story of Lincoln’s marriage. 

The Famous “Lost Speech’’ delivered in 
1856, now first reproduced. 


CORDIALLY COMMENDED BY THE PRESS 


1 The best that has yet been written." — Milwaukee Sent1 
‘ Leaves a vivid, mental picture .”—Chicago Tribune. 


net. I 

I 


Special Lincoln Centenary Offer 


To spread the knowledge of this wonderful work we are sending, fora short time only, 
first copies on approval and at our expense, and accepting the low introductory price 
mentioned on the coupon. Remember, it costs you nothing to investigate. 


SENT FREE ON APPROVAL 

We will send the complete set, express paid, for your examination. If you 
find the books satisfactory, you pay but a small amount each month. If you 
are not satisfied when you see the books, send them back at our expense, 
You take no risk. Send the Coupon to-day. 

LINCOLN HISTORY SOCIETY 48 NEW YORK 7 " 


Portrait Free. To all who send us this coupon before Jan. 
25 th, we will present upon receipt of their acceptance a beautiful 
photo-mezzotint engravure of Abraham Lincoln, on Japan paper, 12 xl 7 
inches, enlarged from same photograph as above cut. Each portrait 
bears facsimile of Lincoln’s signature and date, 1864 . Price, $ 5 . 00 . 



New Stories of Lincoln as a lawyer. 

New Material on the Lincoln-Douglas debate. 

New Anecdotes regarding the Lincoln-Shields duel. 

New Facts regarding his nomination for President, elec¬ 
tion, life in Washington and tragic death, disproving 
many misstatements and popular errors. 


Her work presents a portrait of the man that no student 
of history can afford to miss .”—Brooklyn Eagle. 


LINCOLN 
HISTORY SOC’Y 
48 E. 23d Street 
New York 


Please send me at your 
expense a complete set 
of Tarbell’s FIFE 
OF LINCOLN, in four 
. volumes, bound in de luxe 
^ I leather.* If satisfactory, I 
^ will send you $1.00 at once, and 
$1.0C per month thereafter for 
13 months. If not satisfactory, 
I will return them within ten 
days at your expense. 


Name. 


/ Address . 

* If cloth binding is desired change 13 to 9 mos. 


15 




















McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 


2 
3 

3 

4 

I Dh P AR1 MEN 1 i 

ni^WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW 8 



M c CLURJE S 
SCHOOL 
DEPARTMENT 



m\ 


mm 

fis?".! 



Enjrrnvers and 3-Color Operators Earn $20 to $50 
Per Week. Only college in the world where these paying profes¬ 
sions are taught successfully. Established 16years. Endorsed by 
International Association of Photo-Engravers, and Photographers' 
Association of Illinois. Terms easy ; living inexpensive. Graduates 
placed in good positions. Write for catalogue, and specify course 
in which yon are interested. 

Illinois College of Photography or 945 Wabash Ave. 
Bissell College of Photo-Engraving \ Effingham, III. 

L. H. BlSSELL, Pres. No Saloons in Effingham. 


SUMMIT, N. J. 

fnrlfnn A seIect bo y s ’ under CathoIic 

canton n .aQ.my auspices, with laymen as teachers. Num¬ 
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all colleges and for business. References required. Golf, tennis, 
baseball. Address CHARLES H. SCHULTZ, A.M., Headmaster. 


Mount Pleasant Academy 

Founded in 1814 at 

Ossining-on-Hudson, N. Y. 

Does not claim to be the only good school in 
the country. There is no shoddy or false pre¬ 
tense about Mount Pleasant. It is simply a 
plain, old-fashioned school where character is 
placed above cleverness, and honest achievement 
is emphasized as of prime importance in these 
strenuous days. Second term opens February 
i, 1909. If interested in such a school, or in 

MOUNT PLEASANT HALL 

for boys under 13 , write to 

CHARLES FREDERICK BRUSIE, Box 507 

SWARTHMORE, pT 

Swarthmore Preparatory School. t «h n icai School 

or business life. Cottage System. Co-educational. Half hour from 
Philadelphia. Tuition and board $ 4 ^ 0 . Athletics. Summer Ses¬ 
sion Yearbook. ARTHUR H. TOML 1 FSON, Headmaster. 


American Academy of Dramatic Arts 

Founded in 1884 

FRANKLIN H. SARGENT, President 

Its exceptional facilities and complete organization have made it the 
recognized leading institution for dramatic training in this country. Con¬ 
nected with Mr. Chas. Frohman's Empire Theatre and Companies . 
For information apply to 

THE SECRETARY. 146 Carnegie Hall, New York, N.Y. 



One of the "best equipped and most progressive schools 
in the South for the preparation of boys for college, scien¬ 
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The military training supplements the scholastic work, 
by cultivating in the students habits of promptness, regu¬ 
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healthful exercise. 

The buildings are unusually attractive in appearance. 
The grounds are nine acres in extent, affording fine ath¬ 
letic field and parade course. Well-equipped gymnasium. 
Swimming pool. Cost of board, tuition, etc., $ 200 . For 
illustrated catalogue address 
REV. WALTER MITCHELL, B. D., Rector. 



Government Positions 

AR 710 Awere madeto Civil Serviceplacesdur- 
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tunities for young people. Each year we instruct by mail 
thousands of persons who pass these examinations and a large share 
of them receive appointments to life positions at $840 to $l, 500 ayear 
If you desire a position of this kind, write for our Civil Service An¬ 
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inations and questions recently used by the Civil Service Commission. 

COLUMBIAN CORRESPONDENCE COLLEGE, WASHINGTON. D. C. 


™nt STORY-WRITERS 

We read, criticize, revise, and typewrite stories, novels, plays, and book 
MSS. ; we sell them on commission or tell you where to sell them. We 
teach Story-Writing and Journalism, by mail. Endorsed by 
leading daily, weekly, and monthly publications throughout the United 
States and Canada. Send for free booklet, " Writing for Profit 11 i 
tells how and gives the proof. 

Thornton West Editor-in-Chief. Established 1895. 

THE NATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION 
112 The Baldwin Indianapolis, Ind. 


CIVIL 

SERVICE 


EXAMINATIONS will soon be held in every state. 
46,712 appointments made last year. A common 
school education is sufficient. Full information 
about all Government Positions and questions re¬ 
cently used by the Civil Service Commission free. 

Columbiin Correspondence College, Washington,DC. 


16 




























































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


SHORTHAND * 

* IN 30 DAYS 


^ We absolutely guarantee to teach shorthand complete in 
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CHICAGO CORRESPONDENCE SCHOOLS 

957 Chicago Opera House Block, Chicago, III. 




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Dept. 125,National Salesman's Training Association, 

New York, Chicago, S«n Francisco, Kimn Cliy. Minnetpolll. 


new York's Best Jlrt 
Instruction 

Brought to your home 

Y OU cannot duplicate the art courses I offer 
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tbe 01. martin Johnson Jlrt School 

No. 7 Madison Ave., New York City. 


>3.000 , »*I0.000A 

v IN THE REAL ESTATE BUSINESS 


We teach you by mail every branch of the 
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of the oldest and largest co-operative real 
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THE CROSS COMPANY, 2254 Reaper Block, Chicago 


YOU HEAR THE EXACT PRONUNCIATION OF EACH WORD 
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Send for testimonials , booklet and letter . 

THE LANGUAGE-PHONE METHOD 
818 Metropolis Bldg., Broadway and 16 th St., New York 




FRENCH—GERMAN 
SPANISH—ITALIAN 

Spoken, Taught and Mastered by the 

LANGUAGE 
PHONE 
METHOD 

Combined with 

The Rosenthal Common 
Sense Method of 
Practical Linguistry. 



Grand Prize Contest 

An Unlimited Number of Prizes will be distributed among those who make a copy 
of this picture. If our Art Director decides that your copy is even 40 per cent, as 
good as the original, it will win an illustrated magazine FREE Or LHARUE FOR 
SIX MONTHS, showing the work of the most prominent artists of the country. 

No Money Required to Win a Prize —It will not cost you a cent to enter this 
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Copy This Picture and Win a Prize 

Thousands of people now earning small pay have Illustrating ability, but do 
not know it. If you will send your drawing to-day, we will tell you whether you 
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you have this natural ability, and we can start you on the road to a comfortable and 
independent living, with pleasant, steady and profitable employment. 

Correspondence Institute of America, Dept. 193. Scranton, Pa. 


l6a 


4 
































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


FREE 


As pi By Augusta J. Evans, 

0*1 tLlflUi Cloth Bound, 

To Every Subscriber to “ The People’s Home Journal.” 

St. Elmo, by Augusta J. Evans, ie tlie greatest 
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I reason of the fact that the copyright is about to expire, 
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I THE PEOPLE’S HOME JOURNAL, we are enabled to 
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attractively Bound ill Clotll, stamped in colored 
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THE PEOPLE'S HOME JOURNAL is a large and handsome literary and family 
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this offer or will relund money paid on application. Our house has been established 
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F. III. LEPTON, Publisher, 27 City Hall Place, New York. 




$2522 
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IF YOU EARN LESS 

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you how to earn from $25 to $100 per week. 

GEORGE H. POWELL 
1094 Metropolitan Annex, N. Y. City 


OU RN ALISM 

Practical, paying newspaper work, writing special 
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TAUGHT BY MAIL. 

Instruction in personal charge of Mr. Henry Litchfield 
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Successful students everywhere. Students as¬ 
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Write for illustrated booklet. 

NATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE INSTITUTE, 

21-48 ‘2nd Nat’l Hank Building, Washington, I). C. 


DRAWING OUTFIT FREE 


ILLUSTRATORS AND CARTOONISTS 

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Send for our free booklet, “Money in Drawing;’* tells how and 
gives the proof. Established 1895. 

THE NATIONAL PRESS ASS’N, 112 The Baldwin, Indianapolis, Ind. 



Can You Draw This? 

Copy it as well as you can, send to us and we will 
give you a handsome portfolio of drawings by the 
noted artist, Charles Lederer. A course of lessons by 
mail, at home, may qualify you to earn a good salary 
as an artist and cartoonist. Instruction individual 
and exactly adapted to your talent. 

THE LEDERER SCHOOL OF DRAWING, 
CHATTANOOGA, TENNESSEE. 




A Happy Marriage 

Depends largely on a knowl¬ 
edge of the whole truth about 
self and sex and their relation 
to life and health. This knowl¬ 
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ordinary everyday sources. 

SEXOLOGY 

(Illustrated) 

by William H. Walling , A.M., M.D., imparts in a clear, 
wholesome way, in one volume : 

Knowledge a Young Man Should Have. 

Knowledge a Young Husband Should Have. 
Knowledge a Father Should Have. 

Knowledge a Father Should Impart to His Son. 

Medical Knowledge a Husband Should Have. 
Knowledge a Young Woman Should Have. 

Knowledge a Young Wife Should Have. 

Knowledge a Mother Should Have. 

Knowledge-a Mother Should Impart to Her Daughter. 
Medical Knowledge a Wife Should Have. 

Rich Cloth Binding, Full Gold Stamp, Illustrated, $2.00 

Write for “Other People’s Opinions” and Table of Contents 

PURITAN PUB. CO. f Dept. 176, PHILA., PA. 



I won the World’s First Prize in Penmanehtp. By my new 
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C* w. RANSOM. 3663 Euclid Ave.» Kansas City. Missouri 



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INSTITUTE, Studio 801 , Omaha, Neb. 


Home Study 


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376-38 0 Wabash Avenue, Chicago 


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4441 Olive St. St. Louis* Mo, 


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I TEACH SIGN PAINTING 

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DETROIT SCHOOL OF LETTERING 

Dept. F. DETROIT, MICH. 

“Oldest and Largest School of its Kind.* 1 


l6b 










































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


Every home should have them 

Reproductions 
of the World's Great 
Paintings 



tEBRY 
ICTURES 


ONE CENT 

each for 25 or more. Size 5^x8. 
(6 to 10 times the size of this 
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and a colored bird picture. 

Send 25c. for 25 art subjects, or 
25 for children, or 25 kittens. 

THE PERRY PICTURES 



CO., Box 800, Malden, Mass. 


STUDY 


High-Grade 
Instruction by 
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Established 1892 


LAW 

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. Classes begin each month. Uniform rate of tui¬ 
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the bar of the several States. 


Chicago Correspondence School of Law 
607 Reaper Blocks Chicago 



LEARN BY MAIL.. BE A 

CERTIFIED 

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Drawn by F. Walter Taylor 

“MISS FLOYD LED THE WAY ACROSS THE GRASS WITH THE GENERAL “ 


See Page 22Q 










McCLURE’S MAGAZINE 

VOL. XXXII JANUARY, 1909 No. 3 

“MARRIAGE A LA MODE” 

BY 

MRS. HUMPHRY WARD 


ILLUSTRATED WITH A DRAWING BY F. WALTER TAYLOR 


I 

A O FLING day!” General Hobson 
lifted his hat and mopped his fore¬ 
head indignantly. “What on earth 
this place can be like in June I can't 
conceive ! The tenth of April, and 
I'll be bound the thermometer’s somewhere near 
eighty in the shade. You never find the English 
climate playing you these tricks.” 

Roger Barnes looked at his uncle with 
amusement. 

“Don’t you like heat, Uncle Archie? Ah! 
but I forgot, it’s American heat.” 

“1 like a climate you can depend on,” said 
the General, quite conscious that he was talk¬ 
ing absurdly, yet none the less determined to 
talk, by way of relief to some obscure annoy¬ 
ance. “Here we are sweltering in this abomi¬ 
nable heat, and in New York last week they had 
a blizzard, and here, even, it was cold enough 
to give me rheumatism. The climate’s always 
in extremes — like the people.” 

“I’m sorry to find you don’t like the States, 
Unde Archie.” 

The young man sat down beside his uncle. 
They were in the deck saloon of a steamer 
which had left Washington about an hour 
before for Mount Vernon. Through the open 
doorway to their left they saw a wide expanse 
of river, flowing between banks of spring green, 
and above it thunderous clouds, in a hot 
blue. The saloon, and the decks outside, held 
a great crowd of passengers, of whom the ma¬ 
jority were women. 


The tone in which Roger Barnes spoke was 
good-tempered, but quite perfunctory. Any 
shrewd observer would have seen that whether 
his uncle liked the States or not did not in 
truth matter to him a whit. 

“And I consider all the arrangements for 
this trip most unsatisfactory,” the General con¬ 
tinued angrily. “The steamer’s too small, the 
landing-place is too small, the crowd getting 
on board was something disgraceful. They’ll 
have a shocking accident one of these days. 
And what on earth are all these women here 
for — in the middle of the day? It’s not a 
holiday.” 

“ I believe it’s a teachers’ excursion,” said 
young Barnes absently, his eyes resting on the 
rows of young women in white blouses and 
spring hats who sat in close-packed chairs upon 
the deck — an eager, talkative host. 

“H’m — teachers!” The General’s tone 
was still more pugnacious. “Going to learn 
more lies about us, I suppose, that they may 
teach them to school-children ? I was turning 
over some of their school-books in a shop yester¬ 
day. Perfectly abominable! It’s monstrous 
what they teach the children here about what 
they’re pleased to call their War of Independ¬ 
ence. All that we did was to ask them to pay 
something for their own protection. What did 
it matter to us whether they were mopped up 
by the Indians, or the French, or not? ‘But 
if you want us to go to all the expense and 
trouble of protecting you, and putting down 
those fellows, why, hang it,’ we said, ‘you must 
pay some of the bill !’ That was all English 

225 


Copyright , iqoS , by The S. S. McClure Co. All rights reserved. 
Copyright. mnJ? A.. J\f rs Humphry Ward 


226 


“MARRIAGE 


A LA MODE” 


Ministers asked; and perfectly right, too. And 
as for the men they make such a fuss about, 
Samuel Adams, and John Adams, and Frank¬ 
lin, and all the rest of the crew, I tell you, the 
stuff they teach American school-children about 
them is a poisoning of the wells! Franklin was 
a man of profligate life, whom I would never 
have admitted inside my doors! And as for 
the Adamses — intriguers — canting fellows ! 
— both of them.” 

“Well, at least you’ll give them George 
Washington.” As he spoke, Barnes concealed 
a yawn, followed immediately afterwards by a 
look of greater alertness, caused by the dis¬ 
covery that a girl sitting not far from the door¬ 
way in the crowd outside was certainly pretty. 

The red-faced, white-haired General paused 
a moment before replying, then broke out: 
“What George Washington might have been 
if he had held a straight course, I am not pre¬ 
pared to say. As it is, I don’t hesitate for a 
moment! George Washington was nothing 
more nor less than a rebel — a damned rebel! 
And what Englishmen mean by joining in the 
worship of him, Eve never been able to under¬ 
stand.” 

“I say, uncle, take care,” said the young 
man, looking round him, and observing with 
some relief that they seemed to have the 
saloon to themselves. “These Yankees will 
stand most things, but-” 

“You needn’t trouble yourself, Roger,” was 
the testy reply; “ I am not in the habit of 
annoying my neighbors. Well, now, look 
here, what 1 want to know is, what is the 
meaning of this absurd journey of yours?” 

The young man’s frown increased. He began 
to poke the floor with his stick. “ I don’t 
know why you call it absurd.” 

“To me it seems both absurd and extrava¬ 
gant,” said the other with emphasis. “The 
last thing I heard of you was that Burdon & Co. 
had offered you a place in their office, and that 
you were prepared to take it. When a man 
has lost his money and becomes dependent 
upon others, the sooner he gets to work the 
better.” 

Roger Barnes reddened under the onslaught, 
and the sulky expression of his handsome 
mouth became more pronounced. “I think 
my mother and I ought to be left to judge for 
ourselves,” he said rather hotly. “We haven’t 
asked anybody for money yet, Uncle Archie. 
Burdon & Co. can have me in September just 
as well as now; and my mother wished me to 
make some friends over here, who might be 
useful to me.” 

“Useful to you? How?” 

“I think that’s my affair. In this country 


there are always openings—things turning up 
— chances — you can’t get at home.” 

The General gave a disapproving laugh. 
“The only chance that’ll help you, Roger, at 
present — excuse me if I speak frankly — is 
the chance of regular work. Your poor mother 
has nothing but her small fixed income, and 
you haven’t a farthing to chuck away on what 
you call chances. Why, your passage by the 
Lucania alone must have cost a pretty penny. 
I’ll bet my hat you came first class.” 

The young man was clearly on the brink of 
an explosion, but controlled himself with an 
effort. “I paid the winter rate; and mother, 
who knows the Cunard people very well, got a 
reduction. I assure you, Uncle Archie, neither 
mother nor 1 is a fool, and we know quite well 
what we are about.” 

As he spoke he raised himself with energy, 
and looked his companion in the face. 

The General, surveying him, was mollified, as 
usual, by nothing in the world but the youth’s 
extraordinary good looks. Roger Barnes’good 
looks had been, indeed, from his childhood up¬ 
wards the distinguishing and remarkable feat¬ 
ure about him. He had been a king among his 
school-fellows largely because of them, and of 
the athletic prowess which went with them; and 
while at Oxford he had been cast for the part 
of Apollo in the Eumenides, Nature having 
clearly designed him for it, in spite of the 
lamentable deficiencies in his Greek scholar¬ 
ship, which gave his prompters and trainers so 
much trouble. Nose, chin, brow, the poising 
of the head on the shoulders, the large blue eyes, 
lidded and set with a Greek perfection, the deli¬ 
cacy of the lean, slightly hollow cheeks, com¬ 
bined with the astonishing beauty and strength 
of the head, crowned with ambrosial curls — 
these possessions, together with others, had so 
far made life an easy and triumphant business 
for their owner. The “others,” let it be noted, 
however, had till now always been present; and, 
chief amongst them, great vealth and an im¬ 
portant and popular father. The father was 
recently dead, as the black band on the young 
man’s arm still testified, and the wealth had 
suddenly vanished, wholly and completely, in 
one of the financial calamities of the day. Gen¬ 
eral Hobson, contemplating his nephew, and 
mollified, as we have said, by his splendid ap¬ 
pearance, kept saying to himself: “He hasn’t 
a farthing but what poor Laura allows him; he 
has the tastes of forty thousand a year; a very 
indifferent education; and what the deuce is 
he going to do?” 

Aloud he said : 

“Well, all I know is, I had a deplorable letter 
last mail from your poor mother.” 



227 


MRS. HUMPHRY WARD 


The young man turned his head away, his 
cigarette still poised at his lips. "Yes, 1 know 

— mother’s awfully down.” 

"Well, certainly your mother was never 
meant for a poor woman,” said the General, 
with energy. "She takes it uncommonly hard. 
And yet she was never an extravagant woman, 
either.” 

Roger, with face still averted, showed no 
inclination to discuss his mother’s character on 
these lines. 

The General resumed: 

"She was always, in fact, a first-rate manager. 
No one ever cheated her. I should have thought 
if anybody could have reconciled themselves to 
being poor, it might have been your mother. 
However, she’ll get along all right, if you do 
your duty by her,” he added, not without a 
certain severity. 

" 1 mean to do it, sir.” Barnes rose as he 
spoke. "I should think were getting near 
Mount Vernon by this time. I’ll go and look.” 

He made his way to the outer deck, the Gen¬ 
eral following. The old soldier, as he moved 
through the crowd of chairs in the wake of his 
nephew, was well aware of the attention excited 
by the young man. The eyes of many damsels 
were upon him; and, while the girls looked and 
said nothing, their mothers laughed and whis¬ 
pered to each other, as the young Apollo passed. 

Standing at the side of the steamer, the 
uncle and nephew perceived that the river had 
widened to a still more stately breadth, and 
that, on the southern bank, a white building, 
high placed, had come into view. The ex¬ 
cursionists crowded to look, expressing their 
admiration for the natural scene, and their 
sense of its patriotic meaning in a frank, en¬ 
thusiastic chatter, which presently enveloped 
the General, standing in a silent endurance, 
like a rock among the waves. 

"Isn’t it fine to think of his coming back 
here to die, so simply, when he’d made a na¬ 
tion?” said a young girl — perhaps from 
Omaha — to her companion. "Wasn’t it just 
lovely?” 

Her voice, restrained, yet warm with feeling, 
annoyed General Hobson. He moved away, 
and, as they hung over the taffrail, he said 
with suppressed venom to his companion: 
"Much good it did them to be 'made a nation !’ 
Look at their press — look at their corruption 

— their divorce scandals!” 

Barnes laughed, and threw his cigarette-end 
into the swift brown water. 

"Upon my word, Uncle Archie, I can’t play 
up to you. As far as I’ve gone, I like America 
and the Americans.” 

"Which means, I suppose, that your mother 


gave you some introductions to rich people in 
New York, and they entertained you?” said 
the General drily. 

"Well, is there any crime in that? I met a 
lot of uncommonly nice people.” 

"And didn’t particularly bless me when I 
wired to you to come here?” 

The young man laughed again and paused a 
moment before replying. 

"I’m always very glad to come and keep 
you company, Uncle Archie.” 

The old General reddened a little. Privately, 
he knew very well that his telegram summon¬ 
ing young Barnes from New York had been an 
act of tyranny — mild, elderly tyranny. He 
was not amusing himself in Washington, where 
he was paying a second visit after an absence 
of twenty years. His English soul was dis¬ 
turbed and affronted by a wholly new realiza¬ 
tion of the strength of America, by the giant 
forces of the young nation, as they are to be 
felt pulsing in the Federal City. He was up in 
arms for the Old World, wondering sorely and 
secretly what the New might do with her in 
the times to come, and foreseeing an ever-in¬ 
creasing deluge of unlovely things — ideals, 
principles, manners — flowing from this West¬ 
ern civilization, under which his own gods were 
already half buried, and would soon be hidden 
beyond recovery. And in this despondency 
which possessed him, in spite of the attentions 
of embassies, and luncheons at the White 
House, he had heard that Roger was in New 
York, and could not resist the temptation to 
send for him. After all, Roger was his heir. 
Unless the boy flagrantly misbehaved himself, 
he would inherit General Hobson’s money and 
small estate in Northamptonshire. Before the 
death of Roger’s father this prospective inheri¬ 
tance, indeed, had not counted for very much 
in the family calculations. The General had 
even felt a shyness in alluding to a matter so 
insignificant in comparison with the general 
scale on which the Barnes family lived. But 
since the death of Barnes pire, and the com¬ 
plete pecuniary ruin revealed by that event, 
Roger’s expectations from his uncle had as¬ 
sumed a new r importance. The General was 
quite aw r are of it. A year before this date he 
would never have dreamed of summoning 
Roger to attend him at moment’s notice. 
That he had done so, and that Roger had 
obeyed him, showed how closely even the 
family relation may depend on pecuniary cir¬ 
cumstance. 

The steamer swung round to the landing- 
place under the hill of Mount Vernon. Again, 
in disembarkation, there was a crowd and rush 
which set the General’s temper on edge. He 


228 


"MARRIAGE A LA MODE" 


emerged from it, hot and breathless, after har¬ 
anguing the functionary at the gates on the 
inadequacy of the arrangements, and the likeli¬ 
hood of an accident. Then he and Roger 
strode up the steep path, beside beds of blue 
periwinkles, and under old trees just bursting 
into leaf. A spring sunshine was in the air and 
on the grass, which had already donned its 
"livelier emerald." The air quivered with 
heat, and the blue dome of sky diffused it. 
Here and there a magnolia in full flower on the 
green slopes spread its splendor of white or 
pinkish blossom to the sun; the great river, 
shimmering and streaked with light, swept 
round the hill, and out into a pearly distance; 
and on the height the old pillared house with its 
flanking colonnades stood under the thinly green 
trees in a sharp light and shade, which em¬ 
phasized all its delightful qualities — made, 
as it were, the most of it, in response to 
the eagerness of the crowd now flowing 
round it. 

Half way up the hill Roger suddenly raised 
his hat. 

"Who is it?" said the General, putting up 
his eyeglass. 

"The girl we met last night, and her brother." 

"Captain Boyson? So it is. They seem to 
have a party with them." 

The girl whom young Barnes had greeted 
moved towards the Englishmen, followed by 
her brother. 

" I didn’t know we were to meet to-day," she 
said gaily, with a mocking look at Roger. "I 
thought you said you were bored — and going 
back to New York." 

Roger was relieved to see that his uncle, 
engaged in shaking hands with the American 
officer, had not heard this remark. Tact was 
certainly not Miss Boyson’s strong point. 

"I am sure I never said anything of the 
kind," he said, looking brazenly down upon 
her; "nothing in the least like it." 

"Oh 1 oh !" the lady protested, with an ex¬ 
travagant archness. "Mrs. Philips, this is Mr. 
Barnes. We were just talking of him, weren’t 
we?” 

An elderly lady, quietly dressed in gray silk, 
turned, bowed, and looked curiously at the 
Englishman. 

" I hear you and Miss Boyson discovered 
some common friends last night." 

"We did, indeed. Miss Boyson posted me 
up in a lot of the people I have been seeing 
in New York. I am most awfully obliged to 
her," said Barnes. His manner was easy and 
forthcoming, the manner of one accustomed to 
feel himself welcome and considered. 

"I behaved like a walking ‘Who's Who,’ 


only I was much more interesting, and didn’t 
tell half as many lies," said the girl, in a high, 
penetrating voice. "Daphne, let me intro¬ 
duce you to Mr. Barnes. Mr. Barnes — Miss 
Floyd; Mr. Barnes — Mrs. Verrier." 

Two ladies beyond Mrs. Philips made vague 
inclinations; and young Barnes raised his hat. 
The whole party walked on up the hill. The 
General and Captain Boyson fell into a discus¬ 
sion of some military news of the morning. 
Roger Barnes was mostly occupied with Miss 
Boyson, who had a turn for monopoly; and 
he could only glance occasionally at the two 
ladies with Mrs. Philips. But he was conscious 
that the whole group made a distinguished ap¬ 
pearance. Among the hundreds of young 
women streaming over the lawn they were 
clearly marked out by their carriage and their 
clothes — especially their clothes — as belong¬ 
ing to the fastidious cosmopolitan class, between 
whom and the young school-teachers from the 
West, in their white cotton blouses, leathern 
belts, and neat short skirts, the links were few. 
Miss Floyd, indeed, was dressed with great sim¬ 
plicity. A white muslin dress, a la Romney, 
with a rose at the waist, and a black-and-white 
Romney hat deeply shading the face beneath — 
nothing could have been plainer; yet it was a 
simplicity not to be had for the asking, a cal¬ 
culated, a Parisian simplicity; while her com¬ 
panion, Mrs. Verrier, was clearly attired in 
what the fashion-papers would have called a 
"creation in mauve." And Roger knew quite 
enough about women’s dress to be aware that 
it was a creation that meant dollars. She was 
a tall dark-eyed, olive-skinned woman, thin 
almost to emaciation : and young Barnes no¬ 
ticed that, while Miss Floyd talked much, Mrs. 
Verrier answered little, and smiled less. She 
moved with a languid step, and looked absently 
about her. Roger could not make up his mind 
whether she was American or English. 

In the house itself the crowd was almost un¬ 
manageable. The General’s ire was roused 
afresh when he was warned off the front door 
by the polite official on guard, and made to 
mount a back stair in the midst of a panting 
multitude. 

" I really cannot congratulate you on your 
management of these affairs," he said severely 
to Captain Boyson, as they stood at last, breath¬ 
less and hustled, on the first-floor landing. "It 
is most improper, I may say dangerous, to ad¬ 
mit such a number at once. And, as for seeing 
the house, it is simply impossible. I shall 
make my way down as soon as possible, and go 
for a walk." 

Captain Boyson looked perplexed. General 
Hobson was a person of eminence; Washington 



MRS. HUMPHRY WARD 


229 


had been very civil to him; and the American 
officer felt a kind of host's responsibility. 

“Wait a moment; I’ll try and find some¬ 
body." He disappeared, and the party main¬ 
tained itself with difficulty in a corner of the 
landing against the pressure of a stream of 
damsels, who crowded to the open doors of 
the rooms, looked through the gratings which 
bar the entrance without obstructing the view, 
chattered, and moved on. General Hobson 
stood against the wall, a model of angry patience. 
Cecilia Boyson, glancing at him with a laughing 
eye, said in Roger’s ear: “How sad it is that 
your uncle dislikes us so." 

“Us? What do you mean?" 

“That he hates America so. Oh, don’t say 
he doesn’t, because I’ve watched him, at one, 
two, three parties. He thinks we’re a horrid, 
noisy, vulgar people, with most unpleasant 
voices, and he thanks God for the Atlantic — 
and hopes he may never see us again." 

“Well, of course, if you’re so certain about it, 
there’s no good in contradicting you. Did you 
say that lady’s name was Floyd ? Could I have 
seen her last week in New York?" 

“Quite possible. Perhaps you heard some¬ 
thing about her?" 

“No," said Barnes, after thinking a moment, 
“ I remember — somebody pointed her out at 
the opera." 

His companion looked at him with a kind 
of hard amusement. Cecilia Boyson was only 
five-and-twenty, but there was already some¬ 
thing in her that foretold the formidable old 
maid. 

“Well, when people begin upon Daphne 
Floyd," she said, “they generally go through 
with it. Ah ! here comes Herbert." 

Captain Boyson, pushing his way through 
the throng, announced to his sister and General 
Hobson that he had found the curator in charge 
of the house, who sent a message by him to the 
effect that if only the party would wait till four 
o’clock, the official closing hour, he himself 
would have great pleasure in showing them the 
house when all the tourists of the day had taken 
their departure. 

“Then," said Miss Floyd, smiling at the 
General, “let us go and sit in the garden, and 
feel ourselves aristocratic and superior." 

The General’s brow smoothed. Voice and 
smile were alike engaging. Their owner was 
not exactly pretty, but she had very large dark 
eyes, and a small glowing face, set in a pro¬ 
fusion of hair. Her neck, the General thought, 
was the slenderest he had ever seen, and the 
slight, round lines of her form spoke of youth 
in its first delicate maturity. He followed her 
obediently, and they were all soon in the gar¬ 


den again, and free of the crowd. Miss Floyd 
led the way across the grass with the General. 

“Ah ! now you will see the General will be¬ 
gin to like us," said Miss Boyson. “ Daphne 
has got him in hand." 

Her tone was slightly mocking. Barnes ob¬ 
served the two figures in front of them, and 
remarked that Miss Floyd had a “very — well 
— a very foreign look." 

“Not English, you mean? — or American? 
Well, naturally. Her mother was a Spaniard — 
a South American—from Buenos Ayres. 
That’s why she is so dark, and so graceful." 

“ I never saw a prettier dress," said Barnes, 
following the slight figure with his eyes. “ It’s 
so simple." 

His companion laughed again. The manner 
of the laugh puzzled her companion, but, just 
as he was about to put a question, the General 
and the young lady paused in front, to let the 
rest of the party come up with them. Miss 
Floyd proposed a seat a little way down the 
slope, where they might wait the half-hour 
appointed. 

That half-hour passed quickly for all con¬ 
cerned. In looking back upon it afterwards 
two of the party were conscious that it had all 
hung upon one person. Daphne Floyd sat be¬ 
side the General, who paid her a half-reluctant, 
half-fascinated attention. Without any appar¬ 
ent effort on her part she became, indeed, the 
center of the group who sat or lay on the grass. 
All faces were turned towards her, and presently 
all ears listened for her remarks. Her talk was 
young and vivacious, nothing more. But all 
she said came, as it were, steeped in personality, 
a personality so energetic, so charged with 
movement and with action that it arrested the 
spectators — not always agreeably. It was like 
the passage of a train through the darkness, 
when, for the moment, the quietest landscape 
turns to fire and force. 

The comparison suggested itself to Captain 
Boyson as he lay watching her, only to be re¬ 
ceived with an inward mockery, half bitter, 
half amused. This girl was always awakening 
in him these violent or desperate images. Was 
it her fault that she possessed those brilliant 
eyes, eyes, as it seemed, of the typical, essential 
woman ? — and that downy brunette skin, with 
the tinge in it of damask red? — and that in¬ 
stinctive art of lovely gesture in which her 
whole being seemed to express itself? Boyson, 
who was not only a rising soldier, but an excel¬ 
lent amateur artist, knew every line of the face 
by heart. He had drawn Miss Daphne from 
the life on several occasions; and from memory 
scores of times. He was not likely to draw 
her from life any more; and thereby hung a 


. 


“MARRIAGE A LA MODE" 


230 

tale. Once again his mind returned to the 
train simile. As far as he was concerned the 
train had passed —in flame and fury leav¬ 
ing an echoing silence behind it. 

What folly ! He turned resolutely to Mrs. 
Verrier, and tried to discuss with her an ex¬ 
hibition of French art recently opened in Wash¬ 
ington. In vain. After a few sentences, the 
talk between them dropped, and both he and 
she were once more watching Miss Floyd, and 
joining in the conversation whenever she chose 
to draw them in. 

As for Roger Barnes, he, too, was steadily 
subjugated — up to a certain point. He was 
not sure that he liked Miss Floyd, or her con¬ 
versation. She was so much mistress of herself 
and of the company, that his masculine vanity 
occasionally rebelled. A little flirt!—that 
gave herself airs. It startled his English mind 
that at twenty — for she could be no more — 
a girl should so take the floor, and hold the 
stage. Sometimes he turned his back upon 
her — almost; and Cecilia Boyson held him. 
But, if there was too much of the "eternal 
womanly” in Miss Floyd, there was not enough 
in Cecilia Boyson. He began to discover also 
that she was too clever for him, and was in fact 
talking down to him. Some of the things that 
she said to him about New York and Washing¬ 
ton puzzled him extremely. She was, he sup¬ 
posed, intellectual; but the intellectual women 
in England did not talk in the same way. He 
was equal to them, or flattered himself that he 
was; but Miss Boyson was beyond him. He 
was getting into great difficulties with her, 
when suddenly Miss Floyd addressed him : 

"1 am sure I saw you in New York, at the 
opera?” 

She bent over to him as she spoke, and low¬ 
ered her voice. Her look was merry, perhaps 
a little satirical. It put him on his guard. 

"Yes, I was there. You were pointed out 
to me.” 

"You were with some old friends of mine. 
I suppose they gave you an account of me?” 

"They were beginning it; but then Melba 
began to sing, and some horrid people in the 
next box said ‘Hush!’” 

She studied him in a laughing silence a 
moment, her chin on her hand, then said : 

"That is the worst of the opera; it stops so 
much interesting conversation.” 

"You don’t care for the music?” 

“Oh, I am a musician !” she said quickly. 
"I teach it. But I am like the mad King of 
Bavaria — I want an opera-house to myself.” 

"You teach it?” he said, in amazement. 

She nodded, smiling. At that moment, a 
bell rang. Captain Boyson rose. 


"That’s the signal for closing. I think we 
ought to be moving up.” 

They strolled slowly towards the house, 
watching the stream of excursionists pour out 
of the house and gardens, and wind down the 
hill; sounds of talk and laughter filled the air, 
and the western sun touched the spring hats and 
dresses. 

"The holidays end to-morrow,” said Daphne 
Floyd demurely, as she walked beside young 
Barnes. And she looked smiling at the crowd 
of young women, as though claiming solidarity 
with them. 

A teacher? A teacher of music? — with 
that self-confidence — that air as though the 
world belonged to her! The young man was 
greatly mystified. But he reminded himself 
that he was in a democratic country where all 
men — and especially all women — are equal. 
Not that the young women now streaming 
to the steamboat were Miss Floyd’s equals. 
The notion was absurd. All that appeared to 
be true was that Miss Floyd, in any circum¬ 
stances, would be, and was, the equal of any¬ 
body. 

"How charming your friend is!” he said 
presently to Cecilia Boyson, as they lingered on 
the veranda, waiting for the curator, in a 
scene now deserted. "She tells me she is a 
teacher of music.” 

Cecilia Boyson looked at him in amazement, 
and made him repeat his remark. As he did so, 
his uncle called him, and he turned away. Miss 
Boyson leant against one of the pillars of the 
veranda, shaking with suppressed laughter. 

But at that moment the curator, a gentle, 
gray-haired man, appeared, shaking hands with 
the General, and bowing to the ladies. He 
gave them a little discourse on the house and 
its history, as they stood on the veranda; 
and private conversation was no longer pos¬ 
sible. 

II 

A sudden hush had fallen upon Mount Ver¬ 
non. From the river below came the distant 
sounds of the steamer, which, with its crowds 
safe on board, was now putting off for Wash¬ 
ington. But the lawns and paths of the house, 
and the formal garden behind it, and all its 
simple rooms upstairs and down, were now 
given back to the spring and silence, save for 
this last party of the sightseers. The curator, 
after his preliminary lecture on the veranda, 
took them within; the railings across the doors 
were removed; they wandered in and out as 
they pleased. 

Perhaps, however, there were only two per¬ 
sons among the six now following the curator 



MRS. HUMPHRY WARD 


to whom the famous place meant anything 
more than a means of idling away a warm after¬ 
noon. General Hobson carried his white head 
proudly through it, saying little or nothing. It 
was the house of a man who had wrenched half 
a continent from Great Britain; the English 
Tory had no intention whatever of bowing the 
knee. On the other hand, it was the house of 
a soldier and a gentleman, representing old 
English traditions, tastes, and manners. No 
modern blatancy, no Yankee smartness any¬ 
where. Simplicity and moderate wealth, com¬ 
bined with culture, — witness the books of the 
library, — with landowning, a family coach, 
and church on Sundays: these things the Eng¬ 
lishman understood. Only the slaves, in the 
picture of Mount Vernon’s past, were strange to 
him. 

They stood at length in the death-chamber, 
with its low white bed, and its balcony over¬ 
looking the river. 

“This, ladies, is the room in which General 
Washington died,” said the curator, patiently 
repeating the familiar sentence. “It is, of 
course, on that account sacred to every true 
American.” 

He bowed his head instinctively as he spoke. 
The General looked round him in silence. His 
eye was caught by the old hearth, and by the 
iron plate at the back of it, bearing the letters 
G. W. and some scroll work. There flashed 
into his mind a vision of the December evening 
on which Washington passed away, the flames 
flickering in the chimney, the winds breathing 
round the house and over the snow-bound land¬ 
scape outside, the dying man in that white bed, 
and around him, hovering invisibly, the genera¬ 
tions of the future. 

“He was a traitor to his king and country !” 
he repeated to himself firmly. “No English¬ 
man has a right to think anything else.” Then, 
his withers quite unwrung by anv gibing sense 
of humor, he added the hurried reflection— 
“ But it is, of course, natural that Americans 
should consider him a great man.” 

The French window beside the bed was 
thrown open, and these privileged guests were 
invited to .step on to the balcony. Daphne 
Floyd was handed out by young Barnes. They 
hung over the white balustrade together. An 
evening light was on the noble breadth of river; 
its surface of blue and gold gleamed through the 
boughs of the trees which girdled the house; 
blossoms of wild cherry, of dogwood, and mag¬ 
nolia sparkled amid the coverts of young green. 

Roger Barnes remarked, with sincerity, as he 
looked about him, that it was a very pretty 
place, and he was glad he had not missed it. 
Miss Floyd made an absent reply, being in fact 


2 3 l . 

occupied in studying the speaker. It was, so 
to speak, the first time she had really observed 
him; and, as they paused on the balcony to¬ 
gether, she was suddenly possessed by the same 
impression as that which had mollified the 
General’s scolding on board the steamer. He 
was indeed handsome, the young Englishman ! 
— a magnificent figure of a man, in height and 
breadth and general proportions; and in addi¬ 
tion, as it seemed to her, possessed of an absurd 
and superfluous beauty of feature. What does 
a man want with such good looks? This was 
perhaps the girl’s first instinctive feeling. She 
was, indeed, a little dazzled by her new com¬ 
panion, now that she began to realize him. As 
compared with the average man in Washington 
or New York, here was an exception — an 
Apollo,—for she too thought of the Sun-god. 
Miss Floyd could not remember that she had 
ever had to do with an Apollo before; young 
Barnes, therefore, was so far an event, a sen¬ 
sation. In the opera-house she had been 
vaguely struck by a handsome face. But here, 
in the freedom of outdoor dress and movement, 
he seemed to her a physical king of men; and, 
at the same time, his easy manner — which, 
however, was neither conceited nor ill-bred — 
showed him conscious of his advantages. 

As they chatted on the balcony she put him 
through his paces a little. He had been, it 
seemed, at Eton and Oxford; and she supposed 
that he belonged to the rich English world. 
His mother was a Lady Barnes; his father, she 
gathered, was dead; and he was traveling, no 
doubt, in the lordly English way, to get a little 
knowledge of the barbarians outside, before he 
settled down to his own kingdom, and the ways 
thereof. She envisaged a big Georgian house in 
a spreading park, like scores that she had seen 
in the course of motoring through England the 
year before. 

Meanwhile the dear young man was evidently 
trying to talk to her, without too much reference 
to the gilt ginger-bread of this world. He did 
notwish that she should feel herself carried into 
regions where she was not at home, so that his 
conversation ran amicably on music. Had she 
learnt it abroad ? he had a cousin who had been 
trained at Leipsic; wasn’t teaching it trying 
sometimes — when people had no ear? De¬ 
licious ! She kept it up, talking with smiles of 
“my pupils” and “my class,” while they wan¬ 
dered after the others upstairs to the dark low- 
roofed room above the death-chamber, where 
Martha Washington spent the last years of her 
life, in order that from the high dormer window 
she might command the tomb on the slope 
below, where her dead husband lay. The 
curator told the well-known story. Mrs. Ver- 


“MARRIAGE A LA MODE” 


232 

rier, standing beside him, asked some questions, 
showed indeed some animation. 

“She shut herself up here? She lived in this 
garret? That she might always see the tomb? 
That is really true?” 

Barnes, who did not remember to have heard 
her speak before, turned at the sound of her 
voice, and looked at her curiously. She wore 
an expression — bitter or incredulous — which, 
somehow, amused him. As they descended 
again to the garden he communicated his 
amusement — discreetly — to Miss Floyd. 

Did Mrs. Verrier imply that no one who was 
not a fool could show her grief as Mrs. Wash¬ 
ington did? that it was, in fact, a sign of being 
a fool to regret your husband? 

“Did she say that?” asked Miss Floyd 
quickly. 

“Not like that, of course, but-” 

They had now reached the open air again, 
and found themselves crossing the front court 
to the kitchen-garden. Daphne Floyd did not 
wait till Roger should finish his sentence. She 
turned on him a face which was grave, if not 
reproachful. 

“I suppose you know Mrs. Verrier’s story?” 

“Why, 1 never saw her before! I hope I 
haven’t said anything I oughtn’t to have said ?” 

“Everybody knows it here,” said Daphne 
slowly. "Mrs. Verrier married two years ago. 
She married a Jew in New York who had 
changed his name. You know Jews are not in 
what we call ‘society’ in New York? But 
Madeline thought she could do it; she was in 
love with him, and she meant to be able to do 
without society. But she couldn’t do without 
society; and presently she began to dine out, 
and go to parties by herself — he urged her 
to. Then, after a bit, people didn’t ask her as 
much as before; she wasn’t happy; and her 
people began to talk to him about a divorce 
— naturally they had been against her marry¬ 
ing him all along. He said — as they and she 
pleased. So the lawyers set about it. Then, 
one night about a year ago, he took the train to 
Niagara — of course it was a very commonplace 
thing to do — and two days afterwards he was 
found, thrown up by the whirlpool; you know, 
where all the suicides are found !’’ 

Barnes stopped short in front of his com¬ 
panion, his face flushing. 

“What a horrible story!” he said, with em¬ 
phasis. 

Miss Floyd nodded. 

“Yes poor Madeline has never got over it.” 

The young man still stood riveted. 

“Of course Mrs. Verrier herself had nothing 
to do with the talk about divorce?” 

Something in his tone roused a combative in¬ 


stinct in his companion. She, too, colored, and 
drew herself up. 

“Why shouldn’t she? She was miserable. 
The marriage had been a great mistake.” 

“And you allow divorce for that?” said the 
man, wondering. “Oh, of course I know every 
State is different, and some States are worse 
than others. But, somehow, 1 never came 
across a case like that—first hand—before.” 

He walked on slowly beside his companion, 
who held herself a little stiffly. 

“I don’t know why you should talk in that 
way,” she said at last, breaking out in a kind 
of resentment, “as though all our American 
views are wrong. Each nation arranges these 
things for itself. You have the laws that suit 
you; you must allow us those that suit us.” 

Barnes paused again, his face expressing a 
still more complete astonishment. 

“You say that?” he said. “You!” 

“And why not?” 

“ But — but you are so young !” he said, evi¬ 
dently finding a difficulty in putting his im¬ 
pressions. “ I beg yolir pardon — I ought not 
to talk about it at all. But it was so odd 
that-” 

“That I knew anything about Mrs. Verrier’s 
affairs?” said Miss Floyd, with a rather uncom¬ 
fortable laugh. “Well, you see, American girls 
are not like English ones. We don’t pretend 
not to know what everybody knows.” 

“Of course,” said Roger hurriedly; “but 
you wouldn’t think it a fair and square thing 
to do?” 

“Think what?” 

“Why, to marry a man, and then talk of 
divorcing him because people didn’t invite you 
to their parties.” 

“She was very unhappy,” said Daphne 
stubbornly. 

“Well, by Jove!” cried the young man, 
“she doesn’t look very happy now !” 

“No,” Miss Floyd admitted. “No. There 
are many people who think she’ll never get over 
it.” 

“Well, I give it up.” The Apollo shrugged 
his handsome shoulders. “You say it was she 
who proposed to divorce him? yet when the 
wretched man removes himself, then she breaks 
her heart !” 

“Naturally she didn’t mean him to do it in 
that way,” said the girl, with impatience. “Of 
course you misunderstood me entirely! — en¬ 
tirely!” she added with an emphasis which 
suited with her heightened color and evidently 
ruffled feelings. 

Young Barnes looked at her with embarrass¬ 
ment. What a queer, hot-tempered girl ! Yet 
there was something in her which attracted 



MRS. HUMPHRY WARD 


2 33 


him. She was graceful even in her impatience. 
Her slender neck, and the dark head upon it, 
her little figure in the white muslin, her dainty 
arms and hands — these points in her de¬ 
lighted an honest eye, quite accustomed to ap¬ 
praise the charms of women. But, by George ! 
she took herself seriously, this little music- 
teacher. The air of wilful command about her, 
the sharpness with which she had just rebuked 
him, amazed and challenged him. 

“ I am very sorry if I misunderstood you,” he 
said, a little on his dignity; “but I thought 
you-” 

“You thought I sympathized with Mrs. Ver- 
rier? So I do; though of course I was awfully 
sorry when that dreadful thing happened. 
But you’ll find, Mr. Barnes, that American 

girls-” The color rushed into her small 

olive cheeks. “Well, we know all about the 
old ideas, and we know also too well that 
there’s only one life, and we don’t mean to 
have that one spoilt. The old notions of mar¬ 
riage—your English notions—” cried the girl 
facing him — “make it tyranny ! Why should 
people stay together when they see it’s a mis¬ 
take? We say everybody shall have their 
chance. And not one chance only, but more 
than one. People find out in marriage what 
they couldn’t find out before, and so-” 

“You let them chuck it just when they’re 
tired of it?” laughed Barnes. “And what 
about the-” 

“The children?” said Miss Floyd calmly. 
“Well, of course, that has to be very carefully 
considered. But how can it do children any 
good to live in an unhappy home?” 

“Had Mrs. Verrier any children?” 

“Yes, one little girl.” 

“ I suppose she meant to keep her?” 

“Why, of course.” 

“And the father didn’t care?” 

“Well, I believe he did,” said Daphne unwill¬ 
ingly. “Yes, that was very sad. He was 
quite devoted to her.” 

“And you think that’s all right?” Barnes 
looked at his companion, smiling. 

“Well, of course, it was a pity,” she said, 
with fresh impatience; “I admit it was a pity. 
But then, why did she ever marry him? That 
was the horrible mistake.” 

“I suppose she thought she liked him.” 

“Oh, it was he who was so desperately in 
love with her. He plagued her into doing it.” 

“Poor devil!” said Barnes heartily. f All 
right, we’re coming.” 

The last words were addressed to General 
Hobson, waving to them from the kitchen- 
garden. They hurried on to join the curator, 
who took the party for a stroll around some of 


the fields over which George Washington, in his 
early married life, was accustomed to ride in 
summer and winter dawns, inspecting his 
negroes, his plantation, and his barns. The 
grass in these southern fields was already high; 
there were shining fruit-trees, blossom-laden, in 
an orchard copse; and the white dogwood 
glittered in the woods. 

For two people to whom the traditions of the 
place were dear, this quiet walk through Wash¬ 
ington’s land had a charm far beyond that of 
the reconstructed'interior of the house. Here 
were 'things unaltered and unalterable, bound¬ 
aries, tracks, woods, haunted still by the figure 
of the young master and bridegroom who 
brought Patsy Custis there in 1759 . To the 
gray-haired curator every foot of them was 
sacred and familiar; he knew these fields and 
the records of them better than any detail of 
his own personal affairs; for years now he had 
lived in spirit with Washington, through all the 
hours of the Mount Vernon day; his life was 
ruled by one great ghost, so that everything 
actual was comparatively dim. Boyson, too, a 
fine soldier and a fine intelligence, had a mind 
stored with Washingtoniana. Every now and 
then he and the curator fell back on each other’s 
company. They knew well that the others 
were not worthy of their opportunity; although 
General Hobson, seeing that most of the memo¬ 
ries touched belonged to a period before the 
Revolution, obeyed the dictates of politeness, 
and made amends for his taciturnity indoors 
by a talkative vein outside. 

Captain Boyson was not, however, wholly 
occupied with history or reminiscence. He per¬ 
ceived very plainly before the walk was over 
that the General’s good-looking nephew and 
Miss Daphne Floyd were interested in each 
other’s conversation. When they joined the 
party in the garden, it seemed to him that 
they had been disputing. Miss Daphne was 
flushed and a little snappish when spoken to; 
and the young man looked embarrassed. But 
presently he saw that they gravitated to each 
other, and that, whatever chance combination 
might be formed during the walk, it always 
ended for a time in the flight ahead of the two 
figures, the girl in the rose-colored sash, and the 
tall, handsome youth. Towards the end of the 
walk they became separated from the rest of 
the party, and only arrived just in time at the 
little station, before the cars started. On this 
occasion, again, they had clearly been arguing 
and disagreeing; and Daphne had the air of a 
ruffled bird, her dark eyes glittering, her mouth 
set in the obstinate lines that Boyson knew by 
heart. But again they sat together in the car, 
and talked and sparred all the way home; while 





"MARRIAGE 


A LA MODE" 


234 

Mrs. Verrier, in a corner of the carriage, shut 
her hollow eyes, and laid her thin hands one 
over the other, and in her purple draperies made 
a picture i la Melisande, which was not lost 
upon her companions. Boyson’s mind regis¬ 
tered a good many grim or terse comments, as 
occasionally he found himself watching this 
lady. Scarcely a year since that hideous busi¬ 
ness at Niagara, and here she was, in that 
extravagant dress ! He wished his sister would 
not make a friend of her, and that Daphne Floyd 
saw less of her. Miss Daphne had quite enough 
bees in her own bonnet without adopting Mrs. 
Verrier’s. 

Meanwhile, it was the General who, on the 
return journey, was made to serve Miss Boyson’s 
gift for monopoly. She took possession of him 
in a business-like way, inquiring into his en¬ 
gagements in Washington, his particular friends, 
his opinion of the place and the people, with a 
light-handed acuteness which was more than a 
match for the Englishman’s instincts of de¬ 
fence. The General did not mean to give him¬ 
self away; he intended, indeed, precisely the 
contrary; but, after every round of conversa¬ 
tion, Miss Boyson felt herself more and more 
richly provided with material for satire at the 
expense of England and the English tourist, his 
invincible conceit, insularity, and condescen¬ 
sion. She was a clever though tiresome woman; 
and expressed herself best in letters. She 
promised herself to write a '‘character” of Gen¬ 
eral Hobson in her next letter to an intimate 
friend, which should be a masterpiece. Then, 
having led him successfully through the role of 
the comic Englishman abroad, she repaid him 
with information. She told him, not without 
some secret amusement at the reprobation it 
excited, the tragic story of Mrs. Verrier. She 
gave him a full history of her brother’s honor¬ 
able and brilliant career; and here let it be 
said that the precieuse in her gave way to the 
sister, and that she talked with feeling. And 
finally she asked him with a smile whether he 
admired Miss Floyd. The General, who had in 
fact been observing Miss Floyd and his nephew 
with some little uneasiness during the preceding 
half-hour, replied guardedly that Miss Floyd 
was pretty and picturesque, and apparently a 
great talker. Was she a native of Washington ? 

"You never heard of Miss Floyd? —of 
Daphne Floyd? No? Ah, well!”—and she 
laughed, — "1 suppose I ought to take it as a 
compliment, of a kind. There are so many 
rich people now in this queer country of ours 
that even Daphne Floyds don’t matter.” 

"Is Miss Floyd so tremendously rich?” 

General Hobson turned a quickened counte¬ 
nance upon her, expressing no more than the in¬ 


terest felt by the ordinary man in all societies — 
more strongly, perhaps, at the present day than 
ever before — in the mere fact of money. But 
Miss Boyson gave it at once a personal meaning, 
and set herself to play on what she scornfully 
supposed to be the cupidity of the Englishman. 
She produced, indeed, a full and particular ac¬ 
count of Daphne Floyd’s parentage, possessions, 
and prospects, during which the General’s 
countenance represented him with great fidelity. 
A trace of recalcitrance at the beginning — for 
it was his opinion that Mis$ Boyson, like most 
American women, talked decidedly too much — 
gave way to close attention, then to astonish¬ 
ment, and finally to a very animated observa¬ 
tion of Miss Floyd’s slender person as she sat a 
yard or two from him on the other side of the 
car, laughing, frowning, or chattering with 
Roger. 

"And that poor child has the management 
of it all?” he said at last, in a tone which did 

him credit. He himself had lost an only 

daughter at twenty-one, and he held old- 

fashioned views as to the helplessness of women. 

But Cecilia Boyson again misunderstood him. 

"Oh, yes!” she said, with a cool smile. 

" Everything is in her own hands — everything! 
Mrs. Philips would not dare to interfere. 

Daphne always has her own way.” 

The General said no more. Cecilia Boyson 
looked out of the window at the darkening 
landscape, thinking with malice of Daphne’s 
dealings with the male sex. It had been a 
Sleeping Beauty story so far. Treasure for the 
winning — a thorn hedge — and slain lovers! 
The handsome Englishman would try it next, no 
doubt. All young Englishmen, according to 
her, were on the look-out for American heiresses. 
Music teacher indeed ! She would have given a 
good deal to hear the conversation of the uncle 
and nephew when the party broke up. 

The General and young Barnes made their 
farewells at the railway station, and took their 
way on foot to their hotel. Washington was 
steeped in sunset. The White House, as they 
passed it, glowed amid its quiet trees. Lafay¬ 
ette Square, with its fountains and statues, its 
white and pink magnolias, its strolling, chatting 
crowd, the fronts of the houses, the long vistas 
of tree-lined avenues, the street cars, the houses, 
the motors, all the openings and distances of 
the beautiful, leisurely place — they saw them 
rosily transfigured under a departing sun, which 
throughout the day had been weaving the quick 
spells of a southern spring. 

"Jolly weather!” said Roger, looking about 
him. "And a very nice afternoon. How long 
are you staying here, Uncle Archie?” 

"I ought to be off at the end of the week; 





MRS. HUMPHRY WARD 


235 


and of course you want to get back to New 
York? I say, you seemed to be getting on 
with that young lady?” 

The General turned a rather troubled eye upon 
his companion. 

“She wasn't bad fun,” said the young man 
graciously; “but rather an odd little thing. 
We quarrelled about every conceivable subject. 
And it's queer how much that kind of girl 
seems to go about in America. She goes every¬ 
where, and knows everything. I wonder how 
she manages it.” 

“What kind of girl do you suppose she is?” 
asked the General, stopping suddenly in the 
middle of Lafayette Square. 

“She told me she taught singing,” said 
Roger, in a puzzled voice, “to a class of girls 
in New York.” 

The General laughed. 

“She seems to have made a fool of you, my 
dear boy. She is one of the great heiresses of 
America.” 

Roger’s face expressed a proper astonishment. 

“Oh! that's it, is it? I thought once or 
twice there was something fishy — she was try¬ 
ing it on. Who told you?” 

The General retailed his information. Miss 
Daphne Floyd was the orphan daughter of an 
enormously rich and now deceased lumber-king, 
of the State of Illinois. He had made vast sums 
by lumbering, and then invested in real estate 
in Chicago and Buffalo, not to speak of a rail¬ 
way or two, and had finally left his daughter 
and only child in possession of a fortune gener¬ 
ally estimated at about two million sterling. 
The money was now entirely in the girl's power. 
Her trustees had been sent about their business, 
though Miss Floyd was pleased occasionally to 
consult them. Mrs. Philips, her chaperon, had 
not much influence with her; and it was sup¬ 
posed that Mrs. Verrier advised her more than 
any one else. 

“Good heavens!” was all that young Barnes 
could find to say when the story was told. He 
walked on absently, flourishing his stick, his 
face working under the stress of amused medi¬ 
tation. At last he brought out: 

“You know. Uncle Archie, if you’d heard 
some of the things Miss Floyd was saying to 
me, your hair would have stood on end.” 

The General raised his shoulders. 

“I dare say. I'm too old-fashioned for 
America. The sooner I clear out, the better. 
Their newspapers make me sick; I hate the 
hotels— I hate the cooking; and there isn’t a 
nation in Europe I don't feel myself more at 
home with.” 

Roger laughed his clear, good-tempered 
laugh. “Oh! I don't feel that way at all. 


1 get on with them capitally. They're a mag¬ 
nificent people. And, as to Miss Floyd, 1 didn't 
mean anything bad, of course. Only the ideas 
some of the girls here have, and the way they 
discuss them — well, it beats me !” 

“What sort of ideas?” 

Roger's handsome brow puckered in the 
effort to explain. “They don't think any¬ 
thing's settled\ you know, as we do at home. 
Miss Floyd doesn't. They think they’ve got to 
settle a lot of things that English girls don't 
trouble about, because they’re just told to do 
'em, or not to do 'em, by the people that look 
after them !” 

“'Everything hatched over again, and 
hatched different,'” said the General, who was 
an admirer of George Eliot; “that's what 
they’d like, eh? Pooh! That's when they're 
young. They quiet down, like all the rest of 
the world.” 

Barnes shook his head. “ But they are 
hatching it over again. You meet people here 
in society you couldn't meet at home. And 
it’s all right. The law backs them up.” 

“You're talking about divorce!” said the 
General. “Aye! it's astounding! The tales 
one hears in the smoking-room after dinner! 
In Wyoming, apparently, six months' resi¬ 
dence, and there you are. You prove a little 
cruelty, the husband makes everything per¬ 
fectly easy, you say a civil good-bye, and the 
thing's done. Well, they’ll pay for it, my dear 
Roger — they'll pay for it. Nobody ever yet 
trifled with the marriage law with impunity.” 

The energy of the old man's bearing became 
him. 

Through Roger's mind the thought flashed : 
“Poor, dear Uncle Archie ! If he’d been a New 
Yorker he'd never have put up with Aunt 
Lavinia for thirty years!” 

They turned into their hotel, and ordered 
dinner in an hour's time. Roger found some 
English letters waiting for him, and carried 
them off to his room. He opened his mother's 
first. Lady Barnes wrote a large and straggling 
hand, which required many sheets and much 
postage. It might have been observed that her 
son looked at the sheets for a minute, with a 
certain distaste, before he began upon them. 
Yet he was deeply attached to his mother, and 
it was from her letters week by week that he 
took his marching orders. If she only wouldn't 
ride her ideas quite so hard; if she would some¬ 
times leave him alone, to act for himself! 

Here it was again —the old story: 

“Don't suppose I put these things before 
you on my account. No, indeed; what does it 
matter what happens to me? It is when I 
think that you may have to spend your whole 


“MARRIAGE 


A LA MODE" 


236 

life as a clerk in a bank, unless you rouse your¬ 
self now (for you know, my dear Roger, though 
you have very good wits, you're not as fright¬ 
fully clever as people have to be nowadays), 
that I begin to despair. But that is entirely 
in your own hands. You have what is far more 
valuable than cleverness — you have a delight¬ 
ful disposition, and you are one of the hand¬ 
somest of men. There ! of course, I know you 
wouldn't let me say it to you in your presence; 
but it’s true all the same. Any girl should be 
proud to marry you. There are plenty of rich 
girls in America; and if you play your cards 
properly you will make her and yourself happy. 
The grammar of that is not quite right, but you 
understand me. Find a nice girl —of course a 
nice girl —with a fortune large enough to put 
you back in your proper sphere; and it doesn’t 
matter about me. You will pay my rent, I 
dare say, and help me through when I want it; 
but that’s nothing. The point is, that I cannot 
submit to your career being spoilt, through your 
poor father’s mad imprudence. You must re¬ 
trieve yourself — you must. Nobody is any¬ 
thing nowadays in the world without money; 
you know that as well as I do. And besides, 
there is another reason. You have got to for¬ 
get the affair of last spring, to put it entirely 
behind you, to show that horrid woman who 
threw you over that you will make your life a 
success in spite of her. Rouse yourself, my 
dear Roger, and do your best. I hope by now 
you have forwarded all my introductions? 
You have your opportunity, and I must say 
you will be a great fool if you don’t use it. 
Do use it, my dear boy, for my sake. I am a 
very unhappy woman; but you might, if you 
would, bring back a little brightness to my life." 

After he had read the letter, young Barnes sat 
for some time in a brown study on the edge of 
his bed. The letter contained only one more 
repetition of counsels that had been dinned 
into his ears for months — almost ever since the 
financial crash which had followed his father’s 
death, and the crash of another sort, concerning 
himself, which had come so quick upon it. His 
thoughts returned, as they always did at some 
hour of the day or night, to the "horrid 
woman.’’ Yes, that had hit him hard; the 
lad’s heart still throbbed with bitterness as he 
thought of it. He had never felt anything so 


much; he didn't believe he should ever mind 
anything so much again. "I’m not one of 
your sentimental sort," he thought, half con¬ 
gratulating himself, half in self-contempt. But 
he could not get her out of his head; he won¬ 
dered if he ever should. And it had gone 
pretty far, too. By Jove! that night in the 
orchard! — when she had kissed him, and 
thrown her arms round his neck ! And then to 
write him that letter, when things were at their 
worst. She might have done the thing de¬ 
cently, have treated a fellow kindly at least. 
Well, of course it was all done with. Yes, it 
was. Done with ! 

He got up and began to pace his small room, 
his hands in his pockets, thinking of the night 
in the orchard. Then gradually the smart 
lessened, and his thoughts passed away to 
other things. That little Yankee girl had 
really made good sport all the way home. He 
had not been dull for a moment; she had 
teased and provoked him so. Her eyes, too, 
were wonderfully pretty, and her small, pointed 
chin, and her witch-like, imperious ways. Was 
it her money, the sense that she could do as 
she liked with most people, that made her so 
domineering and masterful? Very likely. On 
the journey he had put it down just to a natural 
and very surprising impudence. That was 
when he believed that she was a teacher, earn¬ 
ing her bread. But the impudence had not 
prevented him from finding it much more 
amusing to talk to her than to anybody else. 

And, on the whole, he thought she had not 
disliked him, though she had said the rudest 
things to him, and he had retaliated. She had 
asked him, indeed, to join them in an excursion 
the following day, and to tea at the Country 
Club. He had meant, if possible, to go back to 
New York on the morrow. But perhaps a day 
or two longer - 

So she had two millions — the little sprite? 
She was and would be a handful! — with them 
or without them. And possessed also of the 
most extraordinary opinions. But he thought 
he would go on the excursion, and to the 
Country Club. He began to fold his mother’s 
letter, and put it back into its envelope, while 
a slight flush mounted in his cheeks, and the 
young mouth that was still so boyish and candid 
took a stiffer line. 


TO BE CONTINUED 





THE TREATY AT PORTSMOUTH 

A PREMATURE AND DANGEROUS PEACE 

BY 

GENERAL KUROPATKIN 

ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS 


T HE results of the premature conclu¬ 
sion of peace at Portsmouth, by 
which Japan was recognized as the 
conqueror of Russia on the continent 
of Asia, will unquestionably be pain¬ 
ful, not only for Russia, but for all the Powers 
who have possessions or business interests in 
Asia. The “Yellow Peril/' only recently fore¬ 
seen, has now arrived. 

Painful internal disorders, and a hostile, or, 
at best, indifferent sentiment among the Rus¬ 
sian public toward the war were the real causes 
for the conclusion of this unfortunate peace by 
Russia. It was neither desired nor needed by 
the army. I said in my letter to the Emperor 
of February 21, 1906: “The frankest and most 
candid study of our situation cannot diminish 
the firmly rooted belief of the army in the 
eventual triumph of our troops in Manchuria, 
if it had been deemed possible to continue the 
war.” This is the exact truth so far as the army 
is concerned. 

Only a Fraction of the Russian 
Army in Battle 

We had begun this war with insignificant forces, 
and carried it on under the most unfavorable 
conditions, weakened by internal disorders in 
Russia and connected with Russia only by a 
weak single-track railway. In the battles of 
Liao-Yang, Sakho, and Mukden only a relatively 
small proportion of our army had fought against 
the entire land forces of Japan. In the battle 
of Mukden, our army fought with less than 
300,000 bayonets in its ranks. And even in 
August and September, 1905, when nearly all 
the reinforcements assigned to the Russian 
army had concentrated in the Manchurian 
theater of war, we had arrayed against Japan 
only one-third of all our armed forces. 

In the meanwhile, we had knocked out of the 
enemy's ranks, in killed and wounded, almost 


300,000 men. The whole northern part of 
Manchuria, including Kharbin, and a part of 
southern Manchuria, including Gerin and Kuan- 
chentzsi, were still in our hands. And so far the 
enemy had not touched Russian territory, with 
the exception of the undefended island of Sak¬ 
halin. 

An Army of a Million Men 

In March, 1905, our army occupied the so-called 
Sipinhai position in Southern Manchuria, and 
maintained it, fighting with ever-increasing 
energy, and constantly growing stronger, until 
the conclusion of peace. An army of a million 
men, well organized, seasoned by fighting, and 
supplied with officers upon whom we could 
thoroughly rely, were preparing to continue the 
bloody conflict with the Japanese. Never in 
our military history has Russia set out forces of 
such strength as in September, 1905, when we 
unexpectedly received the fatal news that an 
agreement between our representatives and the 
Japanese had been reached at Portsmouth. 

We had, at that time, rid ourselves largely of 
the older reserves by sending them to the rear¬ 
guard, and had obtained in exchange several 
hundred thousand young men — new recruits, 
enlisted as regulars, a great proportion of whom 
had volunteered to join the army. For the 
first time sinc£ the beginning of the war the 
army was filled up to its full complement. It 
had received machine guns and batteries of 
howitzers; field railways insured the transporta¬ 
tion of supplies to the army; telegraphs and 
telephones were at last on hand; the wireless 
telegraph had arrived; the transportation de¬ 
partment had been enlarged; and the sanitary 
condition of the army was excellent. 

“The Women Will Make Fun of Us” 

I had impressed it upon the troops, from the mo¬ 
ment of my arrival, that no one should return 

237 




















GENERAL K 

home until we had achieved a complete victory 
— that without a victory it would be disgraceful 
for any one to show himself in Russia. And by 
dint of the friendly cooperation of the com¬ 
manding officers of all ranks, I had succeeded in 
making all the men firmly believe that fighting 
was necessary, and had so thoroughly imbued 
them with this thought that even the reserves 
had begun to admit that a return home without 
victory was impossible. 

“The women will make fun of us,” they said 
to me, more than once. Such a frame of mind 
is, of course, less valuable than patriotic excite¬ 
ment, than the martial striving to rush forward, 
and the thirst for daring feats; but under the 
circumstances in which this war was conducted 
it afforded a full assurance that in future battles 
the army would display a dogged courage. 
Considering these facts, the future historian, 
when summing up the Russo-Japanese War, will 
dispassionately decide that our land forces in 
that war, although they suffered defeats in the 
first campaign, yet had attained to such strength 
at last that victory might be regarded as as¬ 
sured to us. 

Japan's Dead Exceed Her Whole 
Regular Army 

Judging from numerous data, whose truth we 
could not doubt, Japan had begun to weaken 
both morally and materially. All her resources 
seemed to have been exhausted. It had re¬ 
quired extraordinary efforts on the part of the 
Japanese to push our army through Manchuria, 
and had cost them enormous losses. According 
to the information in the hands of our general 
staff, the entire peace force of the J apanese army 
consisted of 116,000 men, of which as many as 
13,000 were on perpetual leave. The reserve of 
the territorial army numbered 315,00 men. 
Thus their entire force of soldiers, according to 
our calculations, consisted of only 418,000 men. 
But according to calculations made on the basis 
of data published by the Japanese sanitary au¬ 
thorities, it is evident that during the war over 
one million men were summoned to their colors, 
which created an extraordinary drain on the 
forces of the population. It was necessary dur¬ 
ing the war to alter the laws, so that men who 
had already served out their time in the reserve 
might be drafted into the active army, and it was 
necessary to put into the ranks of the army not 
only the raw recruits of 1904 and 1905, but even 
the recruits of 1906. We began to meet among 
the prisoners some who were almost boys, and 
side by side with them others who were almost 
aged men. 

The losses in killed and wounded were very 
great. In the cemetery of honor at Tokio alone 


UROPATKIN 239 

60,000 were buried who had been slain in bat¬ 
tle, and to these must be added 50,000 who died 
of their wounds. Thus the Japanese suffered 
battle losses of 110,000 men — that is to say, a 
number almost equal to the entire army on a 
peace footing. Our losses, compared with our 
army of a million, were several times smaller 
than those of the Japanese. During the war 
554,000 men were treated in the Japanese hos¬ 
pitals, 220,000 of them being wounded. Count¬ 
ing in with the killed and wounded those who 
died from disease, the Japanese lost 135,000 men. 

Japan Exhausted by the War 

The Japanese suffered particularly heavy 
losses among their officers, but their general 
losses were tremendous. Owing to the dogged¬ 
ness with which they fought, whole regiments 
and brigades of Japanese were almost com¬ 
pletely annihilated by us. This was the case in 
the battle at Putiloff Crater, on October 2, 1904, 
and again during the battles of February, 1905. 
In the battle, of Liao-Yang and Mukden, the 
majority of the Japanese troops attacking our 
position from the front suffered heavy losses, 
and were unsuccessful. Moreover, the con¬ 
stantly increasing stubborness of our own 
troops in battle could not do otherwise than 
affect the frame of mind of the Japanese army. 
Toward the end of the war, their regulars had 
left their ranks to a great extent, and the raw 
recruits, taken from the population and hur¬ 
riedly drilled, could not, in the battles that fol¬ 
lowed, develop the same power of resistance and 
the same enthusiastic dash forward that the 
Japanese had possessed during the first cam¬ 
paign. We felt this markedly in the battles 
fought on the positions before Mukden, and es¬ 
pecially when we took our final stand on the 
Sipinhai position. 

At that time, when our volunteer detach¬ 
ments and the sections of troops in our van¬ 
guard were falling upon the Japanese with ever- 
increasing daring, we no longer noticed on the 
Japanese side the enterprise, dash, and vigilance 
that they had previously displayed. The 
southern temperament revealed itself among 
the Japanese in weariness of the war. For six 
whole months before the war closed, the Japa¬ 
nese gave us time to fortify and reinforce our¬ 
selves without attempting to attack us, to push 
us to the Sungari river and inflict a final defeat. 
During this time, when we were stationed on the 
Sipinhai position, the number of prisoners be¬ 
gan to increase, and many of them no longer 
displayed that fanaticism which had been ob¬ 
served in the prisoners of 1904. Many of the 
prisoners frankly admitted that they were over¬ 
whelmed by the burden of the war. In many 



Photographed by Brown Bros. y N. V. 

A RUSSIAN SOLDIERS’ FESTIVAL AT TSCHAUSJANTUM 


letters also from their native land, which we 
found on the killed and on the prisoners, weari¬ 
ness of the war was plainly expressed; and there 
was news of the heavy taxes, which had in¬ 
creased in an extraordinary degree during the 
war, and of the costliness of articles of prime 
necessity and of the absence of earnings. Op¬ 
posite the position of the ist Siberian corps, one 
day, a Japanese company, in full strength, sur¬ 
rendered as prisoners — something that had 
never occurred before. 

The English writer, Norregaard, who was 
with the Japanese army during the siege of Port 
Arthur, bears testimony to the breaking down 
of the patriotic feeling with which the Japanese 
had been carrying on the war. According to 
his statement, the reserves of some of the prin¬ 
cipal military districts of Japan — Yokohama, 
Kobe, and Osaka — expressed to him a desire to 
end the war as soon as possible. One of them 
told him that one of the regiments of the Japa¬ 
nese army, made up from these districts, had 
even refused to march to an attack.* 

Europe Withdraws Financial Support 

In a material way, also, Japan did not rest on 
a bed of roses. Money grew harder and harder 
to get, and the needs of the army, which was 
constantly growing in numbers, kept growing 

* Razvyedtchik (the Scout), 1905, No. 820. 


correspondingly. To all appearances, the Japa¬ 
nese were troubled even as to how they could 
supply their artillery sufficient ammunition at 
the proper time. Their lack of this was particu¬ 
larly noticeable during the battles on the Sakho. 

The Japanese could not fail to be worried by 
the coolness toward their successes that be¬ 
gan to be shown by the Powers of Europe and 
America. It had appeared very advantageous 
at first for Germany and England to involve 
Russia in a war with Japan, and, having weak¬ 
ened both nations, to tie their hands. But it 
was not at all to the interest of the European 
Powers to permit a complete victory by the 
Japanese on the Manchurian battlefield. By 
uniting with China, victorious Japan would 
have raised still higher her standard with the 
motto ‘'Asia for the Asiatics.” The ruin of all 
the European and American enterprises in Asia 
would have been the first aim of the great new 
power thus formed; and their eventual purpose 
would have been the expulsion of Europeans 
from Asia. 

Squeezed in her little territory, Europe can¬ 
not live without the markets of the whole world. 
The triumph of the idea "America for the 
Americans,” "Asia for the Asiatics,” and 
"Africa for the Africans” menaces her with 
heavy losses. The danger that is approaching 
from this cause is so serious that the European 


240 





















Photographed by Brown Bros., N. Y. 

THE ARRIVAL OF RUSSIAN PRISONERS AND INVALIDS AT MATSUYAMA 


Powers must forget their mutual quarrels, in 
order to unite and effectively resist the other na¬ 
tions who are striving to drive her back into her 
narrow shell, which has long been bursting at 
every seam. 

We were able to profit by this change in pub¬ 
lic opinion, and, first of all, to obstruct supplies 
of money to the Japanese. Only one big suc¬ 
cess on the part of our troops was required to 
bring about a strong reaction in Japan and 
among the Japanese troops. With the exhaus¬ 
tion of her financial resources, by stubbornly 
continuing the war, we might speedily have 
brought Japan to seek a peace that would 
have been both honorable and advantageous 
to us. 

Two Centuries of War for Expansion 

But the recent war has brought us one import¬ 
ant consolation in the consciousness it has given 
Russia that our western neighbors are not cher¬ 
ishing any plans of conquest so far as Russia 
is concerned; for if the European Powers had 
wished to alter the present western frontier 
of the Empire, the years 1905 and 1906 would 
have been most favorable for carrying out 
that purpose. 1 have shown already how 
powerfully the fear of complications with our 
neighbors on the west influenced the fortunes of 
our war with the Japanese,—especially because 


of the withholding of our best troops to de¬ 
fend Russia, when they should have been at 
the front in the Far East. 

As I said in my most respectful report to the 
Emperor, as Minister of War, in 1900: "In the 
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries Russia’s 
chief task was the enlargement of her bound¬ 
aries. And it is unquestionable that the matter 
of frontiers must still be assigned first place. 
From this arises the imperative necessity of an¬ 
swering this question : Are we satisfied at the 
present time with our frontiers ? The same ques¬ 
tion must be settled by our neighbors in regard 
to the frontiers that march with ours/’ At 
that time I arrived at the conclusion, which I 
still hold, that it would be advantageous to 
neither ourselves nor our neighbors to change 
our frontiers. The change would be too costly 
for either party. 

The chief work of our army in the last two 
hundred years has consisted in the enlargement 
of our boundaries on the northwest and on the 
south. In the last two centuries but seventy- 
two years have been peaceful. In the remain¬ 
ing one hundred and twenty-eight years, thirty- 
three foreign and two internal wars have been 
waged. Russia's outlets on the Baltic and 
Black Seas required the labor of our armed 
forces for two hundred years, and cost us great 
sacrifices in killed and wounded. We reached 

241 


« 




















242 


THE TREATY AT PORTSMOUTH 


the Pacific in 1897 without bloodshed. But 
so easy a victory bore within itself the germ 
of defeat. The enlargement of Russia’s bounda¬ 
ries in all directions has brought into her pos¬ 
session divers peoples alien and even hostile to 
Russia. The borders of the Empire have begun 
to be surrounded by a population not suffi¬ 
ciently amalgamated with the Russian people. 
And in this respect, our frontiers in 1900 were 
less favorable 
in a military 
sense than in 
1700. 

Modern 
Russia Must 
Consolidate , 

Not Expand 

Russia, in her 
frontiers. of 
11,000 miles, 
contiguous to 
nine different 
kingdoms, 
needs, in my 
opinion, no 
alterations in 
her boundary 
lines. This 
deduction is 
tranquillizing 
in the highest 
degree, for it 
appears to be 
entirely prob¬ 
able that if 
Russia, con¬ 
tenting herself 
with her fron¬ 
tiers, occupies 
herself during 
the twentieth century merely with the con¬ 
solidation of the kingdom she has won at the 
cost of such tremendous efforts and sacrifices 
in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the 
danger of war with her neighbors will be elim¬ 
inated. For our present generation, such a 
course of procedure on the part of Russia is 
imperatively necessary, for the sacrifices made 
by original Russia, in enlarging her confines, 
and the sacrifices still being made by the 
original sections of Russia for organization 
and defence of borders are so great that they 
cannot fail to exercise an influence upon the 
growth of the Russian population. Our bor¬ 
derlands exist at the expense of the center of 
Russia, and therefore do not strengthen, but 
weaken her. Meanwhile, such a mass of de¬ 


mands is presented to the present generation, 
for organization in all forms, and for the defence 
of Russia’s present limits, that it might turn out 
utterly beyond the strength of the present gen¬ 
eration to bear the burden of new external en¬ 
terprises. 

But can the Russian Empire, with the enor¬ 
mous population that it is destined to have in 
the twentieth century, content itself with the 

existing 
boundaries, or 
must it, dur¬ 
ing that cen¬ 
tury, solve 
further histor¬ 
ical problems? 
This was the 
question that 
I put to my¬ 
self when I 
presented my 
report as Min¬ 
ister of War 
in 1900. 1 

recogn ized 
that it would 
be natural for 
Russia, during 
the twentieth 
century, with¬ 
out enlarging 
her boundaries 
either in 
Europe or in 
Asia, to make 
it her aim to 
find an outlet 
to the warm 
seas of the 
M ed i t e rran- 
ean, and out¬ 
lets open the 
year round on the Pacific and Indian Oceans. 
But with regard to the difficulty and danger for 
us attendant upon such aims, I said in my re¬ 
port of 1900: 

All Civilisation Holds Bach Russia 
From the Sea 

“However legitimate may be our desire to 
possess outlets from the Black Sea and upon the 
Indian and Pacific Oceans, yet these matters 
affect the interest of almost the entire world so 
deeply that if we started to secure them, we 
should have to prepare for a conflict against a 
coalition consisting of England, Germany, Tur¬ 
key, Austria, and China and Japan. It is not 
the mere fact of Russia’s movement toward this 
or that of the outlets just mentioned that is ter- 



From a stereograph copyrighted , 1905 , by //. C. White & Co N. V. 
Photographed by H. G. Panting 

A WARD OF WOUNDED SOLDIERS AT THE RUSSIAN PRISONERS* 
HOSPITAL, MATSUYAMA 















GENERAL KUROPATKIN 


rible to these Powers, but the consequences that 
would ensue should the attempt be successful. 
The possession of the Bosphorus and of an out¬ 
let to the Mediterranean Sea would enable us to 
take*decisive action in the Egyptian question, in 
order to make the Suez Canal international. An 
outlet on the Indian Ocean would constitute a 
permanent threat to India. But the thing cer¬ 
tain, most of all, to frighten the more cultured 
peoples of Europe and America, which furnish 
the whole world with the products of their fac¬ 
tories and foundries, would be Russia’s en¬ 
trance into competition with them for the 
world’s market. Holding in our hands railway 
lines connecting the Pacific Ocean and the Baltic 
Sea, and havingoutlets to the Mediterranean and 
the Indian and Pacific Oceans, Russia, with her 
inexhaustible natural wealth, would become a 
formidable commercial competitor to the pow¬ 
ers of the entire world. 

“In view of the vast bodies of armed forces 
that the nations concerned possess, it is obvious 
that neither in the eighteenth or the nineteenth 
centuries have we encountered such difficulties 
and dangers as we should inevitably encounter 
in .wars in the twentieth century waged in con¬ 
flicts for warm seas. The forces of the present 
generation might prove insufficient for the at¬ 
tainment of possessions necessary only to future 
generations. More than that, an examination 
of our military forces might lead to the conclu¬ 
sion that the execution of new tasks, indispen¬ 
sable for the Russia of the year 2,000 — with 
its 400,000,000 of population — is not only 


243 

beyond the strength of the generation now liv¬ 
ing, but that now, in consequence of the rela¬ 
tively greater military preparedness of our 
neighbors, even the maintenance of Russia’s 
present boundaries in their integrity would be¬ 
come extremely difficult. 0 

No More Danger of Border IVars 

On the other hand, 1 believe it would be no 
advantage in war to our neighbors to change 
our present boundaries. Germany’s frontier 
with Russia, extending 1,700 versts, corresponds 
very badly with the natural physical bounda¬ 
ries. Yet there would be little advantage for 
Germany to invade Russia with the intention of 
conquering portions of her territory. The same 
is true with Austria. The advantages of Per¬ 
sia’s geographical position on the Indian Ocean 
and on the shortest road from Europe to India, 
together with her backwardness in culture and 
her military weakness, render her a natural 
arena for conflict for supremacy between several 
powers. Up to the present time, Russia and 
England have been the principal participants in 
this conflict, but now, apparently, Germany is 
ready to join in, and is making serious attempts 
to establish herself as a neighbor to Persia in 
Asia Minor. But neither political nor military 
conditions demand alterations in our extensive 
boundaries with Persia. 

Concerning our frontier with Afghanistan, I 
came to the belief long ago that it was not to 
Russia’s interest to alter her position there for 
one that might be worse. As long ago as 1878, 



Photographed by Brown Bros. y N. V. 

burying the dead in trenches 














THE TREATY AT PORTSMOUTH 


244 

while 1 occupied the post on the General Staff 
connected with Central Asia, I was a thoroughly 
convinced advocate of the idea that peaceful 
cooperation between Russia and England in 
Asia was imperative, and an opponent of all 
offensive plans in the direction of India. Es¬ 
tablishment of friendly relations with England 
is not only natural but desirable; for, in the 
event of a rebellion against England in India, 
we should be on the side of the English. The 
twentieth century is bound to bring a terrible 
conflict in Asia between Christian and non- 
Christian races. For the good of humanity, it is 
imperative and necessary that in this conflict we 
should be the ally of Christian England against 
the non-Christian races of Asia. 

The Next Great War in the East 

From the developments during the recent 
war, we may be permitted to hope for the pos¬ 
sibility, it seems to me, of arriving at such an 
understanding with the European Powers that 
Russia will be given an opportunity, in the case 
of a fresh attack on us in the Far East, to use all 
her armed forces in a fight with Japan or with 
Japan and China. Japan, notwithstanding the 
fact that the issue of the war was favorable to 
her, is feverishly augmenting her forces. China, 
under the guidance of Japanese officers, is form¬ 
ing a large army on the Japanese model. In 
a very short time, Japan and China will be in 
a position to throw into Manchuria an army of 
more than a million and a half armed men. 
These forces, if directed against Russia, may set 
themselves the task of wresting from her a con¬ 
siderable part of Siberia, and reducing her to the 
rank of a second-class power. The danger that 
threatens Russia from the Far East has now be¬ 
come so obvious that all classes of the Russian 
population ought to prepare themselves, with 
the full consciousness of what they are doing, to 
rise up as one man in defence of the integrity 
and greatness of their native land, in case of a 
new attack upon Russia on the part of Japan or 
China. 

The Russo-Japanese War furnished an im¬ 
mense amount of material for judging what we 
ought to do in order to increase our military 
preparedness and the efficiency of our army. 
The three wars waged by Russia in the last fifty 
years have shown clearly the defects of the body 
of officers in our army. These are undoubtedly 
due largely to the backwardness of Russia's 
culture and the general conditions of life and 
activity of the whole population. But apart 
from this, if the military uniform had been made 
to attract the best and the most energetic men 
of the nation, unquestionably, from a people 
numbering many millions, hundreds of men 


would have been developed, capable of com¬ 
manding our armies. It would appear to 
be necessary, therefore, first to make the mili¬ 
tary uniform attractive to the flower of the 
Russian youth; and second, to strive insistently 
to have the most energetic wearers of the uni¬ 
form pass through the service in the ranks of the 
army, developing their knowledge and spiritual 
forces by the constant thought that the army is 
designed for war. 

A National Weakness for Uniforms 

We have obtained the first of these objects’; 
the military uniform really did long ago acquire 
honor in the land of Russia. As a matter of 
fact, there exists here such an incomprehensible 
deference to the military uniform as can only be 
accounted for by the low level of culture of our 
population. Not so very long ago, a man who 
merely wore a military cap and a cockade was 
regarded in the rural districts as possessed of 
authority. The peasants doffed their hats to 
him, and in winter turned their heavily laden 
teams out of the road into the snowdrifts to let 
him pass, and listened in silence to his vulgar 
abuse. 

But we have failed to obtain the second ob¬ 
ject, of which I have just spoken, for the mass 
of the most capable and energetic men who 
wear the military uniform have not only not 
served in. the ranks of the army, but have not 
even had any connection with it. As long ago 
as the eighteenth century, the practice was es¬ 
tablished of conferring the uniform on children 
of prominent grandees, who might be promoted 
in rank while caracoling around the room on a 
hobby-horse. Then the military uniform, and 
even the title of general, ceased to mean that a 
man actually belonged to the army, or was oc¬ 
cupied with military affairs. Military uniforms 
made their appearance in all ranks of society, 
with the exception of the priesthood. The 
members of the interior council, ambassadors, 
senators, honorary wardens, ministers of the 
various departments, their assistant ministers, 
governor-generals, governors, prefects, and 
chiefs of police, and a host of persons in the 
military public administration on the border 
marches, all wear the military uniform, and are 
carried on the rolls of various grades. But, 
with a few exceptions, they have no connection 
with the army, and only weaken it. Only a very 
small number of the generals included in the 
very thick roster-book of our army perform duty 
in the line. And worst of all is the fact that 
those who do perform line duty lag in rank and 
particularly in pay behind those who do not 
perform duty in the line. Such being the condi¬ 
tion of affairs, it is evident that the strongest, 




CHART ILLUSTRATING GENERAL KURO&ATKIN’S ARGUMENT THAT AN ATTEMPT ON THE PART OF RUSSIA 
TO REACH THE SEA WOULD PROVOKE INTERNATIONAL WAR 


most energetic, and most capable elements 
must have sought to quit the service in our line. 

Officers for Command, Not Desk Work 

Having obtained as many as possible of the 
best elements in the ranks of our army, it is in¬ 
dispensable that the higher officers, as they are 
promoted, should not be allowed to forget what 
they have learned. It is indispensable that our 
higher officers should have actual practice, in 
time of peace, in commanding troops, and 
should not be mere office workers, managers of 
routine business, inspectors, spectators, and 
arbitrators, as they are now. Hitherto, in 
proportion as our commanders have been 
promoted, they have had less and less practice 
in directly commanding troops in the field. 
Instances might be cited of men who have been 
in command of troops in a military district for 
a very prolonged period, without ever having 
once commanded troops at manoeuvres, and 
without having mounted a horse for years. It 
is indispensable that in the future our high mili¬ 
tary commanders shall be free to devote the 
greater part of their time to actual work with 
troops in the field and in barracks. 

The defects of our regulars, as well as our re¬ 
serves, are the defects of the whole Russian peo¬ 
ple. In Japan, Germany, and other countries, 
efforts are made to rear the people in a patriotic 
spirit. The love of the children is aroused for 


their country, and their pride in it is stimulated. 
In these countries the people are encouraged to 
form various patriotic societies; all branches of 
physical sport are encouraged; the government 
is not afraid to give hundreds of thousands of 
rifles into the hands of the population for the 
practice of marksmanship. We do nothing like 
this and are afraid to do it, for everywhere we 
behold visions of the aims of the political and 
separatist societies among us.* 

Need of a Reconstructed National Life 

Too little has been done in our schools to en¬ 
courage a patriotic spirit. The diversity be¬ 
tween the various schools — church, county, and 
national — makes matters worse. The pupils of 
the higher institutions of learning have long 
been occupying themselves with politics instead 
of with science. Everything Russian has long 
been reviled. 

Obviously, it is only by profound reconstruc¬ 
tion of our schools and the forms of life of our 
common man — which should have as its object, 
along with the improvement of his circum¬ 
stances, his inspiration with conscious love for 
his native land, with pride in it, and with a pro¬ 
found consciousness of the necessity of sacrific¬ 
ing everything for it — that we can obtain in the 
reservist a fighter for his fatherland, not only 

* That is, the ambition of Poland, Little Russia, and other sec¬ 
tions to become autonomous. 


245 































































































THE TREATY AT PORTSMOUTH 


246 

intelligent, but also animated by lofty senti¬ 
ment. 

Revolution and Discipline 

The discipline of the army is a fundamental 
condition of regular and victorious action in 
war. But it is almost impossible to maintain 
that discipline in the army if the masses of the 
people lose their fear of the authorities; or, on 
the other hand, if the authorities are afraid of 
the people co.mmitted to their care. A condi¬ 
tion of affairs cannot be permitted, in which a 
soldier does not fear his officer. Now, disci¬ 
pline is being shattered at the present time 
chiefly by dragging the army into the political 
situation. On the one hand, the army is being 
corrupted by the propaganda against the gov¬ 
ernment; on the other hand, the ranks of the 
army, instead of being occupied with military 
matters, are called upon for almost constant 
police service to put down various disorders, 
and that not only in connection with military 
riots where it is impossible to dispense with the 
troops, but in cases where the police and the 
gendarmes ought to be sufficient to straighten 
out the matter. Officers are called upon to 
serve in courts-martial for condemning, shoot¬ 
ing, and hanging political and other criminals. 
Such activity on the part of the army excites 
the population against it; and in the army it 
arouses anger, not only against the populace, 
but also against the officers, who force them to 
shoot down the citizens. The result is that 
discipline is unsettled. 

The army may and is bound to make ener¬ 
getic efforts to crush sedition, to annihilate every 
open opposition to the government. But if 
that sort of activity acquires a chronic charac¬ 
ter; if the army beholds the governmental au¬ 
thorities powerless to enforce order, even wit’ - ' 
the aid of the troops: then the ranks in the arm 
will inevitably become permeated with doubi 
as to the expediency of its activity, and as re¬ 
gards its commanders. 

From what reaches me indirectly, it would 
appear that the heavy task that has fallen to the 
lot of our army along these lines is approaching 
its end, and that order is being restored in Great 
Russia. God grant that this may come to pass, 
and as speedily as possible, for otherwise our 
army will become worse instead of better. 

As I said in my farewell address to the officers 
of the 1st Manchurian Army, “It is evident 
that neither schools nor life have contributed to 


the development in Great Russia, during the 
last forty or fifty years, of strong and independ¬ 
ent character. Now, by the inflexible will of 
our Sovereign Chief, the blessing of liberty has 
been conferred on Russia. The bureaucratic 
tutelage has been removed from the people, and 
they have acquired the possibility of freely de¬ 
veloping and of applying their forces for the 
good of our native land. Let us have faith that 
these blessings of freedom, together with well 
equipped schools, will soon exercise a beneficial 
effect in raising the level of the material and 
moral forces of the Russian people/' 

Preparation for the Next War 

For success in the future war probable in the 
Far East, we must work along the following 
lines: First, to have free for use all our armed 
forces; second, to have at our disposal a strong 
railway connection between Far Eastern Siberia 
and European Russia; third, to prepare the 
waterways of Siberia for the movement of 
heavy freight from west to east; fourth, to re¬ 
move the base of the army as far as possible 
from European Russia into Siberia; and fifth, 
chief of all, to prepare to carry on a new work, 
not with the army alone, but with a united 
patriotic and enthusiastic Russian nation. 

Evidently the historical Fates doomed Russia 
to undergo in the years 1904, 1905, and 1906, 
a severe trial, not only in Manchuria, but also 
in Russia herself. Our great people has come 
renewed and refreshed out of trials still more 
severe. We cannot doubt that Russia, sum¬ 
moned by her Monarch to a new life, will again 
speedily recover from her temporary shock and 
will not depart from a place becoming a great 
people among the peoples of the world. In the 
work of regeneration, that is now beginning in 
Russia for the benefit of the people in the army, 
we must not fail to bear continually in mind the 
lofty words of the Sovereign Leader of the Rus¬ 
sian army, and the Russian people, addressed to 
the Army and Fleet almost two years ago 
(1904): “Russia is mighty. In her life of a 
thousand years, there have been years of still 
severer trials, more threatening of danger; and 
on every occasion she has emerged from the 
struggle with fresh glory and fresh strength." 

Though crushed and sick in soul over our re¬ 
verses and heavy losses, we will not be troubled. 
Through them Russian might is being renewed; 
from them Russian strength will be developed 
and will grow. 


THE 


END 


THE HOUSE OF 


MAPUH1 


BY 

JACK LONDON 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY WLADYSLAW T. BENDA 


D ESPITE the heavy clumsiness of her 
lines, the Aorai handled easily in the 
light breeze, and her captain ran her 
well in before he hove to just outside 
the suck of the surf. The atoll of 
Hikueru lay low on the water, a circle of pounded 
coral sand a hundred yards wide, twenty miles 
in circumference, and from three to five feet 
above high-water mark. On the bottom of the 
huge and glassy lagoon was much pearl shell, and 
from the deck of the schooner, across the slender 
ring of the atoll, the divers could be seen at work. 
But the lagoon had no entrance for even a trad¬ 
ing schooner. With a favoring breeze cutters 
could win in through the tortuous and shallow 
channel, but the schooners lay off and on outside 
and sent in their small boats. 

The Aorai swung out a boat smartly, into 
which sprang half a dozen brown-skinned sailors 
clad only in scarlet loin-cloths. They took the 
oars, while in the stern-sheets, at the steering 
sweep, stood a young man garbed in the tropic 
white that marks the European. But he was not 
all European. The golden strain of Polynesia be¬ 
trayed itself in the sun-gilt of his fair skin and 
cast up golden sheens and lights through the 
glimmering blue of his eyes. Raoul he was, 
Alexandre Raoul, youngest son of Marie Raoul, 
the wealthy quarter-caste who owned and man¬ 
aged half a dozen trading schooners similar to 
the Aorai. Across an eddy just outside the 
entrance, and in and through and over a boiling 
tide-rip, the boat fought its way to the mirrored 
calm of the lagoon. Young Raoul leaped out 
upon the white sand and shook hands with a tall 
native. The man’s chest and shoulders were 
magnificent, but the stump of a right arm, be¬ 
yond the flesh of which the age-whitened bone 
projected several inches, attested the encounter 
with a shark that had put an end to his diving 
days and made him a fawner and an intriguer 
for small favors. 

" Have you heard, Alec ?” were his first words. 
"Mapuhi has found a pearl — such a pearl. 


Never was there one like it ever fished up in 
Hikueru, nor in all the Paumotus, nor in all the 
world. Buy it from him. He has it now. And 
remember that 1 told you first. He is a fool and 
you can get it cheap. Have you any tobacco ?” 

Straight up the beach to a shack under a 
pandanus-tree Raoul headed. He was his 
mother’s supercargo, and his business was to 
comb all the Paumotus for the wealth of copra, 
shell, and pearls that they yielded up. 

He was a young supercargo, it was his second 
voyage in such capacity, and he suffered much 
secret worry from his lack of experience in pric¬ 
ing pearls. But when Mapuhi exposed the pearl 
to his sight he managed to suppress the startle 
it gave him, and to maintain a careless, commer¬ 
cial expression on his face. For the pearl had 
struck him a blow. It was large as a pigeon- 
egg, a perfect sphere, of a whiteness that re¬ 
flected opalescent lights from all colors about 
it. It was alive. Never had he seen anything 
like it. When Mapuhi dropped it into his hand 
he was surprised by the weight of it. That 
showed that it was a good pearl. He examined 
it closely, through a pocket magnifying glass. 
It was without flaw or blemish. The purity of 
it seemed almost to melt into the atmosphere 
out of his hand. In the shade it was softly 
luminous, gleaming like a tender moon. So 
translucently white was it, that when he dropped 
it into a glass of water he had difficulty in finding 
it. So straight and swiftly had it sunk to the 
bottom that he knew its weight was excellent. 

"Well, what do you want for it?” he asked, 
with a fine assumption of nonchalance. 

"I want-” Mapuhi began, and behind 

him, framing his own dark face, the dark faces 
of two women and a girl nodded concurrence in 
what he wanted. Their heads were bent for¬ 
ward, they were animated by a suppressed eager¬ 
ness, their eyes flashed avariciously. 

"I want a house.” Mapuhi went on. "It 
must have a roof of galvanized iron and an 
octagon-drop-clock. It must be six fathoms 

247 



THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI 




248 

long with a porch all around. A big room must 
be in the center, with a round table in the middle 
of it and that octagon-drop-clock on the wall. 
There must be four bedrooms, two on each side 
of the big room, and in each bedroom must be 
an iron bed, two chairs, and a washstand. And 
back of the house must be a kitchen, a good 
kitchen, with pots and pans and a stove. And 
you must build the house on my island, which 
is Fakarava.” 

“Is that all?” Raoul asked incredulously. 

“There must be a sewing-machine/' spoke up 
Tefara, Maputo's wife. 

“Not forgetting the octagon-drop-clock,” 
added Nauri, Maputo's mother. 

“Yes, that is all,” said Mapuhi. 

Young Raoul laughed. He laughed long and 
heartily. But while he laughed, he secretly 
performed problems in mental arithmetic. He 
had never built a house in his life, and his no¬ 
tions concerning house-building were hazy. 
While he laughed, he calculated the cost of the 
voyage to Tahiti for materials, of the materials 


themselves, of the voyage back again to Faka- 
rava, and the cost of landing the materials and 
of building the house. It would come to four 
thousand French dollars, allowing a margin for 
safety — four thousand French dollars were 
equivalent to twenty thousand francs. It was 
impossible. How was he to know the value of 
such a pearl? Twenty thousand francs was a 
lot of money — and of his mother's money at 
that. 

“Mapuhi,” he said, “you are a big fool. Set 
a money price.” 

But Mapuhi shook his head, and the three 
heads behind him shook with his. 

“I want the house,” he said. “It must be 
six fathoms long with a porch all around — 

“Yes, yes,” Raoul interrupted. “I know all 
about your house, but it won’t do. I'll give you 
a thousand Chili dollars.” 

The four heads chorused a silent negative. 

“And a hundred Chili dollars in trade.” 

“1 want the house,” Mapuhi began. 

“What good will the house do you?” Raoul 









‘■‘YOU ARE LUCKY,’ J1E SAID. ‘it IS a NICE PEARL. 1 WILL GIVE YOU CREDIT ON THE BOOKS’” 


demanded. “The first hurricane that comes 
along will wash it away. You ought to know. 
Captain Raffy says it looks like a hurricane right 
now.” 

“Not on Fakarava,” said Mapuhi. “The 
land is much higher there. On this island, yes. 
Any hurricane can sweep Hikueru. 1 will have 
the house on Fakarava. It must be six fathoms 
long with a porch all around-” 

And Raoul listened again to the tale of the 
house. Several hours he spent in the endeavor 
to hammer the house-obsession out of Mapuhi’s 
mind; but Mapuhi’s mother and wife, and 
Ngakura, Mapuhi’s daughter, bolstered him in 
his resolve for the house. Through the open 
doorway, while he listened for the twentieth 
time to the detailed description of the house 
that was wanted, Raoul saw his schooner’s sec¬ 
ond boat draw up on the beach. The sailors 
rested on the oars, advertising haste to be gone. 
The first mate of the Aorai sprang ashore, ex¬ 
changed a word with the one-armed native, then 
hurried toward Raoul. The day grew suddenly 
dark, as a squall obscured the face of the sun. 
Across the lagoon Raoul could see approaching 
the ominous line of the puff of wind. 


“Captain Raffy says you’ve got to get to hell 
outa here,” was the mate’s greeting. “ If there’s 
any shell, we’ve got to run the risk of picking it 
up later on — so he says. The barometer’s 
dropped to twenty-nine-seventy.” 

The gust of wind struck the pandanus-tree 
overhead and tore through the palms beyond, 
flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts, with heavy 
thuds, to the ground. Then came the rain out 
of the distance, advancing with the roar of a gale 
of wind and causing the water of the lagoon to 
smoke in driven windrows. The sharp rattle of 
the first drops was on the leaves when Raoul 
sprang to his feet. 

“A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapu¬ 
hi,” he said. “And two hundred Chili dollars 
in trade.” 

“ 1 want a house-” the other began. 

“Mapuhi!” Raoul yelled, in order to make 
himself heard. “You are a fool !” 

He flung out of the house, and, side by side 
with the mate, fought his way down the beach 
toward the boat. They could not see the boat. 
The tropic rain sheeted about them so that they 
could see only the beach under their feet and 
the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that 

249 









THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI 


250 

snapped and bit at the sand. A figure appeared 
through the deluge. It was Huru-Huru, the 
man with the one arm. 

“ Did you get the pearl ?" he yelled in Raoul’s 
ear. 

“Mapuhi is a fool !" was the answering yell, 
and the next moment they were lost to each 
other in the descending water. 

Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching 
from the seaward side of the atoll, saw the two 
boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose 
out to sea. And near her, just come in from 
the sea on the wings of the squall, he saw an¬ 
other schooner hove to and dropping a boat 
into the water. He knew her. It was the 
Orohena, owned by Toriki, the half-caste trader, 
who served as his own supercargo and who 
doubtlessly was even then in the stern-sheets of 
the boat. Huru-Huru chuckled. He knew 
that Mapuhi owed Toriki for trade-goods ad¬ 
vanced the year before. 

The squall had passed. The hot sun was 
blazing down, and the lagoon was once more a 
mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, 
and the weight of it seemed to burden the lungs 
and make breathing difficult. 

'‘Have you heard the news, Toriki?" Huru- 
Huru asked. “Mapuhi has found a pearl. 
Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in 
Hikueru, nor anywhere in the Paumotus, nor 
anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. 
Besides, he owes you money. Remember that 
1 told you first. Have you any tobacco?" 

And to the grass-shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. 
He was a masterful man, withal a fairly stupid 
one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful 
pearl -glanced for a moment only; and care¬ 
lessly he dropped it into his pocket. 

“You are lucky," he said. “ It is a nice pearl. 

I will give you credit on the books." 

“I want a house," Mapuhi began, in conster¬ 
nation. “ 11 must be six fathoms-" 

“Six fathoms your grandmother!" was the 
trader’s retort. “You want to pay up your 
debts, that’s what you want. You owed me 
twelve hundred dollars Chili. Very well; you 
owe them no longer. The amount is squared. 
Besides, I will give you credit for two hundred 
Chili If, when I get to Tahiti, the pearl sells 
well, I will give you credit for another hundred 
— that will make three hundred. But mind, 
only if the pearl sells well. I may even lose 
money on it." 

Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat 
with bowed head. He had been robbed of his 
pearl. In place of the house, he had paid 
a debt. There was nothing to show for the 
pearl. 

“You are a fool," said Tefara. 


“You are a fool," said Nauri, his mother. 
“Why did you let the pearl into his hand?" 

“What was I to do?" Mapuhi protested. “1 
owed him the money. He knew I had the pearl. 
You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not 
told him. He knew. Somebody else told him. 
And I owed him the money." 

“Mapuhi is a fool," mimicked Ngakura. 

She was twelve years old and did not know 
any better. Mapuhi relieved his feelings by 
sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while 
Tefara and Nauri burst into tears and continued 
to upbrai J him after the manner of women. 

Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a 
third schooner that he knew heave to outside 
the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, 
well named, for she was owned by Levy, the 
German Jew, the greatest pearl-buyer of them 
all, and, as was well known, Hira was the 
Tahitian god of fishermen and thieves. 

“Have you heard the news?" Huru-Huru 
asked, as Levy, a fat man with massive asym¬ 
metrical features, stepped out upon the beach. 
“Mapuhi has found a pearl. There was never 
a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the Paumotus, 
in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has 
sold it to Toriki for fourteen hundred Chili — 

I listened outside and heard. Toriki is likewise 
a fool. You can buy it from him cheap. Re¬ 
member that I told you first. Have you any 
tobacco?" 

“Where is Toriki ?" 

“In the house of Captain Lynch drinking 
absinthe. He has been there an hour." 

And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe 
and chaffered over the pearl, Huru-Huru lis¬ 
tened and heard the stupendous price of twenty- 
five thousand francs agreed upon. 

It was at this time that both the Orohena and 
the Hira, running in close to the shore, began 
firing guns and signaling frantically. The three 
men stepped outside in time to see the two 
schooners go hastily about and head off shore, 
dropping mainsails and flying-jibs on the run 
in the teeth of the squall that heeled them far 
over on the whitened water. Then the rain 
blotted them out. 

“They’ll be back after it’s over," said Toriki. 
“We’d better be getting out of here." 

“ I reckon the glass has fallen some more," 
said Captain Lynch. 

He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old 
for service,, who had learned that the only way 
to live on comfortable terms with his asthma 
was on Hikueru. He went inside to look at the 
barometer. 

“Great God!" they heard him exclaim, and 
rushed in to join with him at staring at a dial 
which marked twenty-nine-twenty. 



i 



“several hundred 


PERSONS OF ALL AGES AND SEXES WERE 

about the captain's dwelling" 


CONGREGATED 









THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI 


252 

Again they came out, this time anxiously to 
consult sea and sky. The squall had cleared 
away, but the sky remained overcast. The two 
schooners, under all sail and joined by a third, 
could be seen making back. A veer in the wind 
induced them to slack off sheets, and five min¬ 
utes afterward a sudden veer from the opposite 
quarter caught all three schooners aback, and 
those on shore could see the boom-tackles being 
slacked away or cast off on the jump. The 
sound of the surf was loud, hollow, and menac¬ 
ing, and a heavy swell was setting in. A terri¬ 
ble sheet of lightning burst before their eyes, 
illuminating the dark day, and the thunder 
rolled wildly about them. 

Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their 
boats, the latter ambling along like a panic- 
stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats 
swept out the entrance, they passed the boat of 
the Aorai coming in. In the stern-sheets, 
encouraging the rowers, was Raoul. Unable 
to shake the vision of the pearl from his mind, 
he was returning to accept Mapuhi’s price of a 
house. 

He landed on the beach in the midst of a 
driving thunder squall that was so dense that 
he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him. 

“Too late/' yelled Huru-Huru. “Mapuhi sold 
it to Toriki for fourteen hundred Chili, and 
Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand 
francs. And Levy will sell it in France for 
a hundred thousand francs. Have you any 
tobacco ?” 

Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the 
pearl were over. He need not worry any more, 
even if he had not got the pearl. But he did 
not believe Huru-Huru. Mapuhi might well 
have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili, but that 
Levy, who knew pearls, should have paid twenty- 
five thousand francs was too wide a stretch. 
Raoul decided to interview Captain Lynch on 
the subject, but when he arrived at that ancient 
mariner’s house he found him looking wide-eyed 
at the barometer. 

“ What do you read it ?” Captain Lynch asked 
anxiously, rubbing his spectacles and staring 
again at the instrument. 

“Twenty-nine-ten,” said Raoul. “I have 
never seen it so low before.” 

“I should say not!” snorted the captain. 
“Fifty years boy and man on all the seas, and 
Eve never seen it go down to that. Listen !” 

They stood for a moment, while the surf rum¬ 
bled and shook the house. Then they went 
outside. The squall had passed. They could 
see the Aorai lying becalmed a mile away and 
pitching and tossing madly in the tremendous 
seas that rolled in statelv procession down out 
of the northeast and flung themselves furiously 


upon the coral shore. One of the sailors from 
the boat pointed at the mouth of the passage 
and shook his head. Raoul looked and saw a 
white anarchy of foam and surge. 

“ I guess I'll stay with you to-night, Captain,” 
he said; then turned to the sailor and told him 
to haul the boat out and to find shelter for him¬ 
self and fellows. 

“Twenty-nine flat,” Captain Lynch reported, 
coming out from another look at the barometer, 
a chair in his hand. 

He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the 
sea. The sun came out, increasing the sultri¬ 
ness of the day, while the dead calm still held. 
The seas continued to increase in magnitude. 

“What makes that sea is what gets me,” 
Raoul muttered petulantly. “There is no wind, 
yet look at it, look at that fellow there!” 

Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of 
tons in weight, its impact shook the frail 
atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was 
startled. 

“Gracious!” he exclaimed, half-rising from 
his chair, then sinking back. 

“ But there is no wind,” Raoul persisted. “ I 
could understand it if there was wind along with 
it.” 

“You’ll get the wind soon enough without 
worryin’ for it,” was the grim reply. 

The two men sat on in silence. The sweat 
stood out on their skin in myriads of tiny drops 
that ran together forming blotches of moisture, 
which, in turn, coalesced into rivulets that 
dripped to the ground. They panted for 
breath, the old man's efforts being especially 
painful. A sea swept up the beach, licking 
around the trunks of the cocoanuts and subsid¬ 
ing almost at their feet. 

“’Way past high-water mark,” Captain 
Lynch remarked; “and I’ve been here eleven 
years.” He looked at his watch. “It is three 
o’clock.” 

A man and woman, at their heels a motley 
following of brats and curs, trailed disconsolately 
by. They came to a halt beyond the house, 
and, after much irresolution, sat down in the 
sand. A few minutes later another family 
trailed in from the opposite direction, the men 
and women carrying a heterogeneous assort¬ 
ment of possessions. And soon several hundred 
persons of all ages and sexes were congregated 
about the captain's dwelling. He called to one 
new arrival, a woman with a nursing babe in her 
arms, and in answer received the information 
that her house had just been swept into the 
lagoon. 

This was the highest spot of land in miles, and 
already, in many places on either hand, the 
great seas were making a clean breach of the 



IT HAD LONG SINCE PASSED BEYOND ALL HIS EXPERIENCE OF WIND 


J 













THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI 


254 

slender ring of the atoll and surging into the 
lagoon. Twenty miles around stretched the 
ring of the atoll, and in no place was it more 
than fifty fathoms wide. It was the height of 
the diving season, and from all the islands 
around, even as far as Tahiti, the natives had 
gathered. 

“There are twelve hundred men, women, and 
children here,” said Captain Lynch. “ I wonder 
how many will be here to-morrow morning.” 

“But why don’t it blow? — that's what I 
want to know,” Raoul demanded. 

“Don’t worry, young man, don’t worry; 
you'll get your troubles fast enough.” 

Even as Captain Lynch spoke, a great watery 
mass smote the atoll. The sea-water churned 
about them three inches deep under their chairs. 
A low wail of fear went up from the many 
women. The children, with clasped hands, 
stared at the immense rollers and cried piteously. 
Chickens and cats, wading perturbedly in the 
water, as by common consent, with flight and 
scramble, took refuge on the roof of the cap¬ 
tain’s house. A Paumotan, with a litter of 
new-born puppies in a basket, climbed into a 
cocoanut tree and twenty feet above the ground 
made the basket fast. The mother floundered 
about in the water beneath, whining and yelp¬ 
ing. 

And still the sun shone brightly and the dead 
calm continued. They sat and watched the 
seas and the insane pitching of the Aorai . 
Captain Lynch gazed at the huge mountains of 
water sweeping in until he could gaze no more. 


He covered his face with his hands to shut out 
the sight; then went into the house. 

“Twenty-eight-sixty,” he said quietly when 
he returned. 

In his arm was a coil of rope. He cut it into 
two-fathom lengths, giving one to Raoul, re¬ 
taining one for himself, and distributing the re¬ 
mainder among the women with the advice to 
pick out a tree and climb. 

A light air began to blow out of the northeast, 
and the fan of it on his cheek seemed to cheer 
Raoul up. He could see the Aorai trimming 
her sheets and heading off shore, and he regret¬ 
ted that he was not on her. She would get 

away at any rate, but as for the atoll- A 

sea breached across, almost sweeping him off his 
feet, and he selected a tree. Then he remem¬ 
bered the barometer and ran back to the house. 
He encountered Captain Lynch on the same 
errand, and together they went in. 

“Twenty-eight-twenty,” said the old mariner. 
“It’s going to be fair hell around here — what 
was that?” 

The air seemed filled with the rush of some¬ 
thing. The house quivered and vibrated, and 
they heard the thrumming of a mighty note of 
sound. The windows rattled. Two panes 
crashed; a draught of wind tore in, striking 
them and making them stagger. The door op¬ 
posite banged shut, shattering the latch. The 
white door-knob crumbled in fragments to the 
floor. Then came a new sound like the rattle 
of musketry, as the spray from a sea struck the 
wall of the house. Captain Lynch looked at his 



J 






255 


JACK LONDON 


watch. It was four o'clock. He put on a coat 
of pilot cloth, unhooked the barometer, and 
stowed it away in a capacious pocket. Again a 
sea struck the house, with a heavy thud, and the 
light building tilted, twisted quarter-around on 
its foundation, and sank down, its floor at an 
angle of ten degrees. 

Raoul went out first. The wind caught him 
and whirled him away. He noted that it had 
hauled around to the east. With a great effort 
he threw himself on the sand, crouching and 
holding his own. Captain Lynch, driven like a 
wisp of straw, sprawled over him. Two of the 
Aorais sailors, leaving a cocoanut tree to which 
they had been clinging, came to their aid, lean¬ 
ing against the wind at impossible angles and 
fighting and clawing every inch of the way. 

The old man's joints were stiff and he could 
not climb, so the sailors, by means of short ends 
of rope tied together, hoisted him up the trunk, 
a few feet at a time, till they could make him 
fast, at the top of the tree, fifty feet from the 
ground. Raoul passed his length of rope around 
the base of an adjacent tree and stood looking 
on. The wind was frightful. He had never 
dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea breached 
across the atoll, wetting him to the knees ere it 
subsided into the lagoon. The sun had disap¬ 
peared, and a lead-colored twilight had settled 
down. A few drops of rain, driving horizon¬ 
tally, struck him. The impact was like that of 
leaden pellets. A splash of salt spray struck his 
face. It was like the slap of a man's hand. His 
cheeks stung, and involuntary tears of pain were 
in his smarting eyes. Several hundred natives 
had taken to the trees, and he could have 
laughed at the bunches of human fruit cluster¬ 
ing in the tops. Then, being Tahitian-born, he 
doubled his body at the waist, clasped the trunk 
of his tree with his hands, pressed the soles of his 
feet against the near surface of the trunk, and 
began to walk up the tree. At the top he found 
two women, two children, and a man. One 
little girl clasped a house-cat in her arms. 

From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain 
Lynch, and that doughty patriarch waved back. 
Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had ap¬ 
proached much nearer — in fact, it seemed just 
over his head; and it had turned from lead to 
black. Many people were still on the ground 
grouped about the bases of the trees and holding 
on. Several such clusters were praying, and in 
one the Mormon missionary was exhorting. A 
weird sound, rhythmical, faint as the faintest 
chirp of a far cricket, enduring but for a mo¬ 
ment, but in that moment suggesting to him 
vaguely the thought of heaven and celestial 
music, came to his ear. He glanced about him 
and saw, at the base of another tree, a large 


cluster of people holding on by ropes and by 
one another. He could see their faces working 
and their lips moving in unison. No sound 
came to him, but he knew that they were singing 
hymns. 

Still the wind continued to blow harder. By 
no conscious process could he measure it, for it 
had long since passed beyond all his experience 
of wind; but he knew somehow, nevertheless, 
that it was blowing harder. Not far away a 
tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human 
beings to the ground. A sea washed across the 
strip of sand, and they were gone. Things were 
happening quickly. He saw a brown shoulder 
and a black head silhouetted against the churn¬ 
ing white of the lagoon. The next instant that, 
too, had vanished. Other trees were going, fall¬ 
ing and criss-crossing like matches. He was 
amazed at the power of the wind. His own tree 
was swaying perilously, one woman was wailing 
and clutching the little girl, who in turn still 
hung on to the cat. 

The man, holding the other child, touched 
Raoul's arm and pointed. He looked and saw 
the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hun¬ 
dred feet away. It had been torn from its foun¬ 
dations, and wind and sea were heaving and 
shoving it toward the lagoon. A frightful wall 
of water caught it, tilted it, and flung it against 
half a dozen cocoanut trees. The bunches of 
human fruit fell like ripe cocoanuts. The sub¬ 
siding wave showed them on the ground, some 
lying motionless, others squirming and writhing. 
They reminded him strangely of ants. He was 
not shocked. He had risen above horror. 
Quite as a matter of course he noted the suc¬ 
ceeding wave sweep the sand clean of the human 
wreckage. A third wave, more colossal than 
any he had yet seen, hurled the church into the 
lagoon, where it floated off into the obscurity to 
leeward, half-submerged, reminding him for all 
the world of a Noah’s ark. 

He looked for Captain Lynch's house, and 
was surprised to find it gone. Things certainly 
were happening quickly. He noticed that many 
of the people in the trees that still held had de¬ 
scended to the ground. The wind had yet again 
increased. His own tree showed that. It no 
longer swayed or bent over and back. Instead, 
it remained practically stationary, curved in a 
rigid angle from the wind and merely vibrating. 
But the vibration was sickening. It was like 
that of a tuning-fork or the tongue of a jew’s- 
harp. It was the rapidity of the vibration that 
made it so bad. Even though its roots held, it 
could not stand the strain for long. Something 
would have to break. 

Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not 
seen it go, but there it stood, the remnant, 




256 THE HOUSE 

broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not 
know what happened unless he saw it. The 
mere crashing of trees and wails of human 
despair occupied no place in that mighty volume 
of sound. He chanced to be looking in Captain 
Lynch's direction when it happened. He saw 
the trunk of the tree, half-way up, splinter and 
part without noise. The head of the tree, with 
three sailors of the Aorai and the old captain, 
sailed off over the lagoon. It did not fall to the 
ground, but drove through the air like a piece of 
chaff. For a hundred yards he followed its 
flight, when it struck the water. He strained 
his eyes, and was sure that he saw Captain 
Lynch wave farewell. 

Raoul did not wait for anything more. He 
touched the native and made signs to descend 
to the ground. The man was willing, but his 
women were paralyzed from terror, and he 
elected to remain with them. Raoul passed his 
rope around the tree and slid down. A rush of 
salt water went over his head. He held his 
breath and clung desperately to the rope. The 
water subsided, and in the shelter of the trunk 
he breathed once more. He fastened the rope 
more securely, and then was put under by an¬ 
other sea. One of the women slid down and 
joined him, the native remaining by the other 
woman, the two children, and the cat. 

The supercargo had n’oticed how the groups 
clinging at the bases of the other trees contin¬ 
ually diminished. Now he saw the process work 
out alongside him. It required all his strength 
to hold on, and the woman who had joined him 
was growing weaker. Each time he emerged 
from a sea he was surprised to find himself still 
there, and next, surprised to find the woman 
still there. At last he emerged to find himself 
alone. He looked up. The top of the tree had 
gone as well. At half its original height, a 
splintered end vibrated. He was safe. The 
roots still held, while the tree had been shorn of 
its windage. He began to climb up. He was so 
weak that he went slowly, and sea after sea 
caught him before he was above them. Then 
he tied himself to the trunk and stiffened 
his soul to face the night and he knew not 
what. 

He felt very lonely in the darkness. At times 
it seemed to him that it was the end of the world 
and that he was the last one left alive. Still the 
wind increased. Hour after hour it increased. 
By what he calculated was eleven o'clock, the 
wind had become unbelievable. It was a hor¬ 
rible, monstrous thing, a screaming fury, a wall 
that smote and passed on but that continued to 
smite and pass on — a wall without end. It 
seemed to him that he had become light and 
ethereal; that it was he that was in motion; 


OF MAPUHI 

that he was being driven with inconceivable 
velocity through unending solidness. The wind 
was no longer air in motion. It had become 
substantial as water or quicksilver. He had a 
feeling that he could reach into it and tear it out 
in chunks as one might do with the meat in the 
carcass of a steer; that he could seize hold of the 
wind and hang on to it as a man might hang on 
to the face of a cliff. 

The wind strangled him. He could not face 
it and breathe, for it rushed in through his 
mouth and nostrils, distending his lungs like 
bladders. At such moments it seemed to him 
that his body was being packed and swollen 
with solid earth. Only by pressing his lips to 
the trunk of the tree could he breathe. Also, the 
ceaseless impact of the wind exhausted him. 
Body and brain became wearied. He no longer 
observed, no longer thought, and was but semi¬ 
conscious. One idea constituted his conscious¬ 
ness : So this was a hurricane. That one idea 
persisted irregularly. It was like a feeble flame 
that flickered occasionally. From a state of 
stupor he would return to* it — So this was a 
hurricane. Then he would go off into another 
stupor. 

The height of the hurricane endured from 
eleven at night till three in the morning, and it 
was at eleven that the tree in which clung 
Mapuhi and his women snapped off. Mapuhi 
rose to the surface of the lagoon, still clutching 
his daughter Ngakura. Only a South Sea 
islander could have lived in such a driving 
smother. The pandanus-tree, to which he at¬ 
tached himself, turned over and over in the 
froth and churn; and it was only by'holding on 
at times and waiting, and at other times shifting 
his grips rapidly, that he was able to get his head 
and Ngakura's to the surface at intervals suffi¬ 
ciently near together to keep the breath in them. 
But the air was mostly water, what with flying 
spray and sheeted rain that poured along at 
right angles to the perpendicular. 

It was ten miles across the lagoon to the far¬ 
ther ring of sand. Here, tossing tree-trunks, 
timbers, wrecks of cutters, and wreckage of 
houses, killed nine out of ten of the miserable 
beings who survived the passage of the lagoon. 
Half-drowned, exhausted, they were hurled into 
this mad mortar of the elements and battered 
into formless flesh. But Mapuhi was fortunate. 
His chance was the one in ten; it fell to him by 
the freakage of fate. He emerged upon the 
sand, bleeding from a score of wounds. Nga¬ 
kura's left arm was broken; the fingers of her 
right hand were crushed; and cheek and fore¬ 
head were laid open to the bone. He clutched 
a tree that yet stood, and clung on, holding the 
girl and sobbing for air, while the waters of the 


■ 


2 57 


JACK LONDON 


lagoon washed by knee-high and at times waist- 
high. 

At three in the morning the backbone of the 
hurricane broke. By five no more than a stiff 
breeze was blowing. And by six it was dead 
calm and the sun was shining. The sea had 
gone down. On the yet restless edge of the 
lagoon, Mapuhi saw the broken bodies of those 
that had failed in the landing. Undoubtedly 
Tefara and Nauri were among them. He went 
along the beach examining them, and came upon 
his wife, lying half in and half out of the water. 
He sat down and wept, making harsh animal- 
noise after the manner of primitive grief. Then 
she stirred uneasily, and groaned. He looked 
more closely. Not only was she alive, but she 
was uninjured. She was merely sleeping. Hers 
also had been the one chance in ten. 

Of the twelve hundred alive the night before 
but three hundred remained. The Mormon mis¬ 
sionary and a gendarme made the census. The 
lagoon was cluttered with corpses. Not a house 
nor a hut was stand^pg. In the whole atoll not 
two stones remained one upon another. One in 
fifty of the cocoanut palms still stood, and they 
were wrecks, while on not one of them remained 
■a single nut. There was no fresh water. The 
shallow wells that caught the surface seepage of 
the rain were filled with salt. Out of the lagoon 
a few soaked bags of flour were recovered. The 
survivors cut the hearts out of the fallen cocoa- 
nut trees and ate them. Here and there they 
crawled into tiny hutches, made by hollowing 
out the sand and covering over with fragments 
of metal roofing. The missionary made a crude 
still, but he could not distill water for three hun¬ 
dred persons. By the end of the second day, 
Raoul, taking a bath in the lagoon, discovered 
that his thirst was somewhat relieved. He cried 
out the news, and thereupon three hundred men, 
women, and children could have been seen, 
standing up to their necks in the lagoon and try¬ 
ing to drink water in through their skins. Their 
dead floated about them, or were stepped upon 
where they still lay upon the bottom. On the 
third day the people buried their dead and sat 
down to wait for the rescue steamers. 

In the meantime, Nauri, torn from her family 
by the hurricane, had been swept away on an 
adventure of her own. Clinging to a rough 
plank that wounded and bruised her and that 
filled her body with splinters, she was thrown 
clear over the atoll and carried away to sea. 
Here, under the amazing buffets of mountains 
of water, she lost her plank. She was an old 
woman — nearly sixty; but she was Paumotan- 
born, and she had never been out of sight of the 
sea in her life. Swimming in the darkness, 
strangling, suffocating, fighting for air, she was 


struck a heavy blow on the shoulder by a cocoa- 
nut. On the instant her plan was formed, and 
she seized the - "nut. In the next hour she cap¬ 
tured seven more. Tied together, they formed 
a life-buoy that preserved her life while at the 
same time it threatened to pound her to a jelly. 
She was a fat woman, and she bruised easily; but 
she had had experience of hurricanes, and, while 
she prayed to her shark god for protection from 
sharks, she waited for the wind to break. But 
at three o’clock she was in such a stupor that she 
did not know. Nor did she know at six o’clock 
when the dead calm settled down. She was 
shocked into consciousness when she was thrown 
upon the sand. She dug in with raw and bleed¬ 
ing hands and feet and clawed against the back¬ 
wash until she was beyond the reach of the 
waves. 

She knew where she was. This land could be 
no other than the tiny islet of Takokota. It 
had no lagoon. No one lived upon it. Hikueru 
was fifteen miles away. She could not see 
Hikueru, but she knew that it lay to the south. 
The days went by, and she lived on the cocoa- 
nuts that had kept her afloat. They supplied 
her with drinking water and with food. But she 
did not drink all she wanted, nor eat all she 
wanted. Rescue was problematical. She saw 
the smoke of the rescue steamers on the horizon, 
but what steamer could be expected to come to 
lonely, uninhabited Takokota? 

From the first she was tormented by corpses. 
The sea persisted in flinging them upon her bit 
of sand, and she persisted, until her strength 
failed, in thrusting them back into the sea where 
the sharks tore at them and devoured them. 
When her strength failed, the bodies festooned 
her beach with ghastly horror, and she withdrew 
from them as far as she could, which was not 
far. 

By the tenth day her last cocoanut was gone, 
and she was shriveling from thirst. She dragged 
herself along the sand, looking for cocoanuts. 
It was strange that so many bodies floated up, 
and no nuts. Surely, there were more cocoa- 
nuts afloat than dead men ! She gave up at 
last, and lay exhausted. The end had come. 
Nothing remained but to wait for death. 

Coming out of a stupor, she became slowly 
aware that she was gazing at a patch of sandy- 
red hair on the head of a corpse. The sea flung 
the body toward her, then drew it back. It 
turned over, and she saw that it had no face. 
Yet there was something familiar about that 
patch of sandy-red hair. An hour passed. She 
did not exert herself to make the identification. 
She was waiting to die, and it mattered little to 
her what man that thing of horror once might 
have been. 


THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI 


258 

But at the end of the hour she sat up slowly 
and stared at the corpse. An unusually large 
wave had thrown it beyond th£ reach of the 
lesser waves. Yes, she was right; that patch 
of red hair could belong to but one man in the 
Paumotus. It was Levy, the German Jew, the 
man who had bought the pearl and carried it 
away on the Hira. Well, one thing was evi¬ 
dent : the Hira had been lost. The pearl-buyer's 
god of fishermen and thieves had gone back on 
him. 

She crawled down to the dead man. His 
shirt had been torn away, and she could see the 
leather money-belt about his waist. She held 
her breath and tugged at the buckles. They 
gave easier than she had expected, and she 
crawled hurriedly away across the sand, drag¬ 
ging the belt after her. Pocket after pocket she 
unbuckled in the belt and found empty. Where 
could he have put it? In the last pocket of all 
she found it, the first and only pearl he had 
bought on the voyage. She crawled a few feet 
farther, to escape the pestilence of the belt, and 
examined the pearl. It was the one Mapuhi had 
found and been robbed of by Toriki. She 
weighed it in her hand and rolled it back and 
forth caressingly. But in it she saw no intrinsic 
beauty. What she did see was the house 
Mapuhi andTefara and she had builded so care¬ 
fully in their minds. Each time she looked at 
the pearl she saw the house in all its details, in¬ 
cluding the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. 
That was something to live for. 

She tore a strip from her abu and tied the 
pearl securely about her neck. Then she went 
on along the beach, panting and groaning, but 
resolutely seeking for cocoanuts. Quickly she 
found one, and, as she glanced around, a second. 
She broke one, drinking its water, which was 
mildewy, and eating the last particle of the 
meat. Alittlelatershefoundashattereddug-out. 
I ts outrigger was gone, but she was hopeful, and, 
before the day was out, she found the outrigger. 
Every find was an augury. The pearl was a 
talisman. Late in the afternoon she saw a 
wooden box floating low in the water. When 
she dragged it out on the beach its contents rat¬ 
tled, and inside she found ten tins of salmon. 
She opened one by hammering it on the canoe. 
When a leak was started, she drained the tin. 
After that she spent several hours in extracting 
the salmon, hammering and squeezing it out a 
morsel at a time. 

Eight days longer she waited for rescue. In 
the meantime she fastened the outrigger back 
on the canoe, using for lashings all the cocoanut- 
fiber she could find, and also what remained of 
her ahu. The canoe was badly cracked, and she 
could not make it water-tight; but a calabash 


made from a cocoanut she stored on board for a 
bailer. She was hard put for a paddle. With a 
piece of tin she sawed off all her hair close to the 
scalp. Out of the hair she braided a cord; and 
by means of the cord she lashed a three-foot 
piece of broom-handle to a board from the sal¬ 
mon case. She gnawed wedges # with her teeth 
and with them wedged the lashing. 

On the eighteenth day, at midnight, she 
launched the canoe through the surf and started 
back for Hikueru. She was an old woman. 
Hardship had stripped her fat from her till 
scarcely more than bones and skin and a few 
stringy muscles remained. The canoe was 
large and should have been paddled by three 
strong men. But she did it alone, with a make¬ 
shift paddle. Also, the canoe leaked badly, 
and one third of her timers devoted to bailing. 
By clear daylight she looked vainly for Hikueru. 
Astern, Takokota had sunk beneath the sea-rim. 
The sun blazed down on her nakedness, com¬ 
pelling her body to surrender its moisture. Two 
tins of salmon were left, and in the course of the 
day she battered holes in them and drained the 
liquid. She had no time to waste in extracting 
the meat. A current was setting to the west¬ 
ward, she made westing whether she made 
southing or not. 

In the early afternoon, standing upright in 
the canoe, she sighted Hikueru. Its wealth of 
cocoanut palms was gone. Only here and there, 
at wide intervals, could she see the ragged rem¬ 
nants of trees. The sight cheered her. She 
was nearer than she had thought. The current 
was setting her to the westward. She bore up 
against it and paddled on. The wedges in the 
paddle-lashing worked loose, and she lost much 
time, at frequent intervals, in driving them 
tight. Then there was the bailing. One hour 
in three she had to cease paddling in order to 
bail. And all the time she drifted to the west¬ 
ward. 

By sunset Hikueru bore southeast from her, 
three miles away. There was a full moon, and 
by eight o'clock the land was due east and two 
miles away. She struggled on for another hour, 
but the land was as far away as ever. She was in 
the main grip of the current; the canoe was too 
large; the paddle was too inadequate; and too 
much of her time and strength was wasted in 
bailing. Besides, she was very weak and grow¬ 
ing weaker. Despite her efforts, the canoe 
was drifting off to the westward. 

She breathed a prayer to her shark god, 
slipped over the side, and began to swim. She 
was actually refreshed by the water, and quickly 
left the canoe astern. At the end of an hour 
the land was perceptibly nearer. Then came 
her fright. Right before her eyes, not twenty 




JACK LONDON 


feet away, a large fin cut the water. She swam 
steadily toward it, and slowly it glided away, 
curving off toward the right and circling around 
her. She kept her eyes on the fin and swam on. 
When the fin disappeared, she lay face down¬ 
ward on the water and watched. When the fin 
reappeared she resumed her swimming. The 
monster was lazy — she could see that. With¬ 
out doubt he had been well fed since the hurri¬ 
cane. Had he been very hungry, she knew he 
would not have hesitated from making a dash 
for her. He was fifteen feet long, and one bite, 
she knew, could cut her in half. 

But she did not have any time to waste on 
him. Whether she swam or not, the current 
drew away from the land just the same. A half- 
hour went by, and the shark began to grow 
bolder. Seeing no harm in her, he drew closer, 
in narrowing circles, cocking his eyes at her im¬ 
pudently as he slid past. Sooner or later, she 
knew well enough, he would get up sufficient 
courage to dash at her. She resolved to play 
first. It was a desperate act she meditated. 
She was an old woman, alone in the sea, and 
weak from starvation and hardship; and yet 
she, in the face of this sea-tiger, must anticipate 
his dash by herself dashing at him. She swam 
on, waiting her chance. At last he passed lan¬ 
guidly by, barely eight feet away. She rushed 
at him suddenly, feigning that she was attacking 
him. He gave a wild flirt of his tail as he fled 
away, and his sand-paper hide, striking her, 
took off her skin from elbow to shoulder. He 
swam rapidly, in a widening circle, and at last 
disappeared. 

In the hole in the sand, covered over by frag¬ 
ments of metal roofing, Mapuhi and Tefara lay 
disputing. 

“ If you had done as I said/' charged Tefara, 
for the thousandth time, “and hidden the pearl 
and told no one, you would have it now.” 

" But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened 
the shell — have I not told you so times and 
times and times without end?” 

“And now we shall have no house. Raoul 
told me to-day that if you had not sold the pearl 
to Toriki-” 

“I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me.” 

"-that if you had not sold the pearl, he 

would give you five thousand French dollars, 
which is ten thousand Chili.” 

“ He has been talking to his mother,” Mapuhi 
explained. “She has an eye for a pearl.” 

“And now the pearl is lost,” Tefara com¬ 
plained. 

“ It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve 
hundred I have made anyway.” 

“Toriki is dead,” she cried. “They have 


259 

heard no word of his schooner. She was lost 
along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki 
pay you the three hundred credit he promised? 
No, because Toriki is dead. And had you found 
no pearl, would you to-day owe Toriki the 
twelve hundred? No, because Toriki is dead, 
and you cannot pay dead men.” 

“ But Levy did not pay Toriki,” Mapuhi said. 
“ He gave him a piece of paper that was good for 
the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead 
and cannot pay; and Toriki is dead and the 
paper lost with him, and the pearl is lost with 
Levy. You are right, Tefara. I have lost the 
pearl, and got nothing for it. Now let us 
sleep.” 

He held up his hand suddenly and listened. 
From without came a noise, as of one who 
breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fum¬ 
bled against the mat that served for a door. 

“Who is there?” Mapuhi cried. 

“Nauri,” came the answer. “Can you tell 
me where is my son, Mapuhi?” 

Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's 
arm. 

“A ghost!” she chattered. “A ghost!” 

Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He 
clung weakly to his wife. 

“Good woman,” he said in faltering tones, 
striving to disguise his voice, “I know your son 
well. He is living on the east side of the 
lagoon.” 

From without came the sound of a sigh. 
Mapuhi began to feel elated. He had fooled the 
ghost. 

“ But where do you come from, old woman ?” 
he asked. 

“From the sea,” was the dejected answer. 

“I knew it! I knew it!” screamed Tefara, 
rocking to and fro. 

“Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange 
house?” came Nauri’s voice through the mat¬ 
ting. 

Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. 
It was her voice that had betrayed them. 

“And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied 
his old mother?” the voice went on. 

“No, no, I have not — Mapuhi has not denied 
you,” he cried. “I am not Mapuhi. He is on 
the east end of the lagoon, 1 tell you.” 

Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The 
matting started to shake. 

“What are you doing?” Mapuhi demanded. 

“ I am coming in,” said the voice of Nauri. 

One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried 
to dive under the blankets, but Mapuhi held on 
to her. He had to hold on to something. To¬ 
gether, struggling with each other, with shiver¬ 
ing bodies and chattering teeth, they gazed with 
protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw 




260 


A SPANISH TOWN 


Nauri, dripping with sea water, without her abu , 
creep in. They rolled over backward from her 
and fought for Ngakura's blanket with which to 
cover their heads. 

" You might give your old mother a drink of 
water,” the ghost said plaintively. 

"Give her a drink of water/' Tefara com¬ 
manded in a shaking voice. 

"Give her a drink of water,” Mapuhi passed 
on the command to Ngakura. 

And together they kicked out Ngakura from 
under the blanket. A minute later, peeping, 
Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it 
reached out a shaking hand and laid it on his, 
he felt the weight of it and was convinced that 
it was no ghost. Then he emerged, dragging 
Tefara after him, and in a few minutes all were 
listening to Nauri’s tale. And when she told of 
Levy, and dropped the pearl into Tefara’s hand, 
even she was reconciled to the reality of her 
mother-in-law. 


"In the morning,” said Tefara, "you will sell 
the pearl to Raoul for five thousand French.” 

"The house?” objected Nauri. 

"He will build the house,” Tefara answered. 
"He says it will cost four thousand French. 
Also will he give one thousand French in credit, 
which is two thousand Chili.” 

"And it will be six fathoms long?” Nauri 
queried. 

"Ay,” answered Mapuhi, "six fathoms.” 

"And in the middle room will be the octagon- 
drop-clock ?” 

"Ay, and the round table as well.” 

"Then give me something to eat, for 1 am 
hungry,” said Nauri complacently. "And after 
that we will sleep, for I am weary. And to¬ 
morrow we will have more talk about the house 
before we sell the pearl. It will be better if we 
take the thousand French in cash. Money is 
ever better than credit in buying goods from the 
traders.” 


A SPANISH TOWN 

MEDINACELI 


B Y 

S. GRISWOLD MORLEY 


L OFTY above the slowly moving train 
1 saw the ancient town astride its hill; 

So dusty, dry, and scorched, it seemed 
no rain 

Might ever give it fill. 

Its houses, tightly clustered, are a patch 
Of sordid brown against the grayish rock; 
Around it shapeless limestone hills keep watch. 
Washed from the selfsame block. 

A wretched road twists upward o'er the heath. 
Which still the Spanish sun fails not to 
parch, 

And near the town it passes underneath 
A triple Roman Arch. 


A Roman Arch ! Gigantic there it stands, 
Imperial still, outlined against the sky. 

The great mid-vault, flanked by the two, 
commands 

Castilla from on high. 

How dares that puny road to thrust its head 
Beneath the mighty reminiscent Arch? 
Another road was that which straightly led 
The war-scarred legions' march. 

Clear as a bolt its well-paved whiteness leapt 
From town to town, surmounting hill and 
vale; 

The wild Iberian feared its sight, and crept. 
Cowed, on the distant swale. 


God knows what glittering legions have passed through 
That Arch, or what subdued barbarian hordes. 

And softly sobbing women, wondering who 
Should be their future lords! 



THE HOPELESS CASE 


BY 

R. F. FOSTER 


T WO visitors walked into the warden's 
office one wintry afternoon in March 
to secure the necessary permission to 
see the penitentiary. One was a min¬ 
ister who had lately taken charge of a 
Sunday-school class in the prison, and the other 
was a fat man, well dressed, who looked as if he 
might answer to the general description, "one 
of the boys.” 

"This is one of my church-members. General, 
who takes a lively interest in all our local char¬ 
ities,” said the minister. "I should like very 
much to take him through the prison, although 
1 believe it is after visiting hours.” 

The warden knew his visitor by name only as 
a successful business man and a liberal sub¬ 
scriber to campaign funds. After a few minutes' 
chat, the usual twenty-five cents was con¬ 
tributed to the library fund, and an officer was 
called to accompany them through the prison. 
They went down a few wooden steps from the 
front office, across a little brick-paved yard, and 
under an archway, where an officer was sitting 
just inside a heavy iron-latticed door. He got 
up as they approached, pushed a large key into 
the lock, and swung back the gate, which closed 
after them with a bang. 

"Your first visit?” asked the minister. 

"Yes. That evangelist, What's-his-name, 
that was here last year and used to preach to 
the prisoners Sunday mornings, wanted me to 
see the place, but I didn’t have time. 1 told him 
he could call on me for a hundred if he found 
any deserving cases in here, but he never said 
anything about it. He told me the officers in 
the shops were the best judges of how deep the 
religious business struck in, for they would 
notice any change in a man that worked under 
them all the time.” 

"Evangelists seldom see much of the final 
results of their efforts,” said the minister; "and 
there are a good many hypocrites among pris¬ 
oners; but many criminals reform and lead bet¬ 
ter lives. I believe that there is one sound spot 
always left in the rottenest heart, if you can 
only find it.” 


They went through the foundry and the shoe- 
shop without meeting anything of interest. 
Most of the members of the minister's Sunday- 
school class worked in the marble-shop, and it 
was not until the guide had pushed open the 
door to let them in, and all the prisoners had 
removed their caps, some with a smile of recog¬ 
nition, that the minister felt at home. 

"There are ninety men in this shop,” he said, 
"and I have about forty of them.” 

"They don't look very different from ordinary 
people,” the business man remarked. "I sup¬ 
pose some of them are murderers, eh? It's in 
this shop that Mitchell, the bank-robber, works, 
isn't it? Which one is he?” This question was 
addressed to the guide. 

"We ain’t allowed to point out prisoners to 
visitors, sir. If you happen to know them, you 
can look at them.” 

"Why, that's funny. A friend of mine went 
through here not long ago, and he told me he 
saw all the celebrities he asked about.” 

"The officer what was taking him through 
maybe pointed out some one who looked the 
part,” put in the officer of the shop, who had 
joined the group by the stove, "but I don’t 
think it was the right man. If a prisoner be¬ 
haves hisself and gives us no trouble, why, we 
don't want to give him no trouble, neither. 
When folks come through here to look at the 
zebras, we ain't going to point out a man to 
them so as they'll know him on the street after 
he gets out, just because they've paid a quarter 
to the library fund.” 

"Well, say,” said the fat man, pulling out his 
cigar-case and offering it to each of the officers, 
" I think I could get a bet out of some of the boys 
at the club on that.” 

"Thanks. Smoking’s not allowed in here; only 
chewing. You can gamble on what I'm telling 
you is right. Why, when that fellow Pemberton 
came in here,— him that killed that girl in Daisy 
Powell's,— his folks was away up in society 
where he come from, and for weeks every jay 
that came in here wanted to see Pemberton. 
Well, none of 'em ever saw Pemberton to know 

261 


262 


THE HOPELESS CASE 


him, not in the whole three years he was here. 
We had a fellow in here for life,—killed his 
wife,— and we showed him up for Pemberton. 
Pemberton was all right; he never give us no 
trouble, and we was all of us his friends.” 

“ But the man you pointed out might object, 
if he knew it.” 

“If he knew it? Well, you see, mister, it's 
this way. If it's a high-toned crime they’re ask¬ 
ing about, all these fellows are proud of having 
done something big. If it’s a dirty piece of work 
like Ealing’s—” mentioning a man who had been 
convicted of a particularly revolting crime on 
an oyster-boat— “we show ’em some dirty dog 
that ain’t no good, like that fellow over there in 
the corner,”—nodding his head toward the 
place. “That fellow's been a sort of wax-figure 
exhibition for all the low-down criminals that’s 
been asked after by visitors for more’n five 
years. Soon after Faling come in here, we 
found he was a good prisoner, if he was a bad 
man outside. One day when a visitor come 
through the shop and asked which was Faling, 
the officer as was taking him through pointed 
out that thing in the corner. Then he turns 
round to go on to the next shop, thinking his 
man was following him. But, Lord bless you, 
just as soon as the officer’s back was turned, 
that man went over in the corner and wiped the 
floor up with the fellow he thought was Faling. 
He was in hospital three weeks.” 

The minister looked sad at the recital of such 
depravity, but the fat man’s face bore an ex¬ 
pression of mingled amusement and surprise. 

“And what had the man in the corner done?” 
he asked. 

“Done ! Why, he’s the dirtiest dog that ever 
lived.” The officer stooped to open the door of 
the stove to give vent to a large mouthful of 
tobacco juice. “ He ought to be in hell —” slam¬ 
ming the stove door almost viciously. “ He was 
in the shoe-shop before he come in here, and 
the General moved him for fear the officer would 
kill him, he made so much trouble. One cold 
afternoon the officer of the shop was a-sitting in 
front of the stove warming himself, and that 
fellow Garbage —Partridge is his name, but 
we call him Garbage, he’s that low — reported 
him for sleeping. Some of the boys put leather 
cuttings on his knees when he had his eyes shut, 
and Garbage goes and gives all their names to 
the General next day. I don’t believe he never 
done a full day’s task since he’s been here. He 
always steals some other fellow’s work and puts 
it in his pile. He’s always making trouble and 
carrying tales. There ain’t nothing too low nor 
too dirty for him. He goes out this fall, and I 
only hopes some one cuts his throat before he 
comes in here again.” 


“Is he in your class?” asked the fat man, 
turning to the minister. “ I mean your Sunday- 
school class, of course.” 

“No. I am sorry to say he is not, not even 
as a hypocrite,” said the minister, who looked 
troubled. “To tell you the truth, when I re¬ 
marked to you that there was always one sound 
spot left in the rottenest heart, by which it may 
be redeemed, I should have mentioned Garbage 
— I mean Partridge—as the exception that 
proves the rule.” 

“Why don’t they punish him ?” 

“Punish him !” roared the officer of the shop. 
“Why, bless you, he’s more marks on his back 
than any man in the prison. He’s had the cat 
up to the limit, thirteen, three days hand run¬ 
ning. He’s been in the dark cells, and bread and 
water, and ball and chain. The General gave 
over licking him about a year ago, as he said 
it was only making him desperate, and didn’t 
do no good nohow. There ain’t no badness that 
fellow ain’t up to, but you can’t lick it out of 
him. Prisoners do some pretty bad things when 
they gets a chance to be alone, and he’s had thir¬ 
teen lashes for that more'n once. We never 
leave him out of sight for a minute. He’d burn 
the prison if it wasn't stone and iron. He did 
burn his bed once, and he’s not had lights in his 
cell for three years. You’ll have to excuse me, 
mister, but the quitting-bell rings in ten min¬ 
utes.” 

When the visitors parted on the corner, the 
fat man expressed his thanks for the experience. 
He seemed to be turning over something in his 
mind that inwardly amused him. 

“Say, that fellow Garbage is a bird, eh? He’s 
the most interesting specimen in the whole 
shooting-match. You don’t gamble, of course; 
but, I say, I feel as if I owed that prison some¬ 
thing on account of that hundred I promised 
What’s-his-name. Tell you what I’ll do. You 
get that fellow Garbage into your class and 
reform him, and I’ll give you the hundred — not 
for charity, but for yourself.” 

“He is a hopeless case.” 

“A game’s never lost till it’s won. You do 
your best. Good-by.” 

A hundred dollars to reform Partridge! He 
had known of evangelists who had been prom¬ 
ised extra payments on the condition that their 
conversions reached a certain number, and he 
had known them to earn the money rather 
easily. But to reform Partridge! He would 
almost as soon undertake to turn a gospel 
preacher into a gambler. Yet the hundred dol¬ 
lars would be a very snug little sum to him, and 
he knew the promise was as good as the pay¬ 
ment, if he could only earn the money. 

For a whole month he tried to find the soft 



R. F. FOSTER 


spot in the heart of his hopeless case. He talked 
to him about his early life, his home, and his 
mother. Partridge had nothing but curses for 
any of them. The very suggestion of religion 
seemed to make him angry. All he cared to 
talk about was what he would do to this officer 
and that as soon as he got out. All prisoners 
who have been punished talk in this way, but 
no one pays any attention to it, and nothing 
happens to the officers. A discharged convict 
will calmly take off his hat in the park to the 
officer who has cruelly flogged him in the prison. 

Partridge’s mind seemed incapable of any¬ 
thing but evil. If he could only steal and hide 
some fellow-prisoner’s tools, or put fat on his 
work, or report some officer for inattention to 
his duty, or do something to make some one 
angry enough to break a rule and get pun¬ 
ished, he was happy. His motto seemed to be: 
No day without a fuss. Instead of making any 
progress with him, the minister felt that Part¬ 
ridge was growing to dislike him, and looked 
upon his attentions as a nuisance, to be met 
with answers as close to impudence as the rules 
allowed and to be got rid of as soon as possible. 

He talked the situation over with the chief 
warden, but the warden did not seem to know 
much about Partridge, except that he was the 
worst and most troublesome prisoner he had ever 
encountered. He had been told that the man 
was no worse than others when he first came, 
which was before the present warden’s time; and 
it had been suggested that too frequent punish¬ 
ment for trifling offenses had made him what he 
was. Partridge seemed to possess not a single 
redeeming quality now, except that "since the 
fire” he had spent such pains on his cell that it 
was among the neatest and most tastefully 
decorated in the prison. He had a knack of 
putting together spalls of marble, picked up 
from the floor, and pictures cut out of papers, 
with a singularly pleasing effect; his cell in 
the eastern dormitory was always shown to 
visitors. The man had never made a friend 
since he came into the prison, but his enemies 
were bounded only by the walls. 

There was one prisoner in the marble-shop, 
a rather intelligent German, whom Partridge 
detested above all others, apparently because he 
had such an easy time of it and was allowed so 
many privileges. This may was in the Sunday- 
school class, and he had watched the efforts of 
the minister to get into Partridge’s good graces 
with mingled amusement and contempt. One 
Sunday morning he offered his advice that Part¬ 
ridge would be better left alone, and that the 
most advantageous thing that could happen 
would be for him to get out of prison and get 
killed. 


263 

Hausmann had not come into personal con¬ 
flict with Partridge in any way, and he often 
congratulated himself that he was in a distant 
part of the shop, since every one near Partridge 
got into trouble sooner or later. His turn came 
at last, in a way that he least expected. Haus¬ 
mann, like most Germans, was very fond of the N 
customs of his own country, and when the spring 
came he asked the General if he might raise 
some flowers in a box in one of the shop win¬ 
dows. He had always had a little garden on his 
balcony in Berlin, and he understood the culti¬ 
vation of small plants very well. The warden 
could not see any objection, and even went to 
the trouble of buying some seeds for him to 
start his little garden. The carpenter who made 
the packing-cases fitted up a big box just the 
length of one of the south windows in the mar¬ 
ble-shop, and they got the earth from the war¬ 
den’s private garden in front of the prison. Being 
a rapid worker, Hausmann could easily finish 
his prison task by two o’clock, and as the rest of 
the afternoon was at a prisoner’s own disposal, to 
do anything he pleased, within the rules, pro¬ 
vided he did not leave the shop, Hausmann 
devoted himself to his garden while other indus¬ 
trious prisoners were making fancy door blocks 
or paper weights out of the scraps of marble 
they picked up around the shop. 

No one paid any attention to the box in the 
window until some little green shoots poked 
their heads into the prison air and seemed to be 
occupied in reading the words on the small sticks 
that marked the various parts of their garden 
bed. To the officer of the shop Hausmann ex¬ 
plained that these marks were necessary, be¬ 
cause each variety of plant required a different 
treatment. The day after the shoots first ap¬ 
peared, when the men marched out for dinner, 
Partridge went without his coat and was sent 
back for it. When the men came in again after 
dinner, every one of the little sticks in the flower 
box had been pulled out and thrown on the 
floor. 

Talking among prisoners is against the rules, 
but although ninety men can watch one officer, 
he cannot watch ninety men, and while he is 
looking one way the prisoners in the other direc¬ 
tion can easily exchange a few words. It does 
not take long for any piece of news to circulate, 
and it did not take Hausmann long to learn that 
Partridge had returned to the shop alone for a 
minute before marching to dinner. 

Without stopping to see whether the officer 
was looking or not, he went across the shop like 
a man chasing a tram-car. Partridge saw him 
coming, but did not seem to guess his intention. 
Before any one could realize what was happen¬ 
ing, there was a fight, in which Partridge got the 


264 T H E H O P E 

worst of it at first, but would have quickly 
turned the tables on his assailant by using his 
hammer if some of the other prisoners had not 
jumped to the rescue of the German and saved 
him from a fractured skull. 

Of course, theofficer could not hush up so seri¬ 
ous a thing as a fight. It would be the talk of 
the prison before morning. He could not report 
one without reporting the other, so the next 
afternoon at two o’clock both men were in the 
warden’s office for trial. Partridge declared that 
the attack was absolutely unprovoked, and 
swore he had never touched the flower-box. 
But the General seemed to think that was all 
nonsense. If he had not done it, who had? 
Hausmann said he was only talking to Part¬ 
ridge, when Partridge began the fight, and he 
had to defend himself. The General told him 
he had no business to go near Partridge, but 
should have complained to the officer of the 
shop and had Partridge punished. Fighting is 
a very grave offense in a prison, and there was 
nothing for the warden to do but to order both 
men to be flogged. 

To a person who knows nothing about it, a 
flogging with a cat-o’-nine-tails appears to be a 
flogging, and its severity seems to vary only 
with the number of lashes. But, in the hands of 
an expert, castigation with the cat is a conun¬ 
drum that he alone can solve. An officer who 
understands his business can lay it on so lightly 
that it feels like the sting of bees, or he can lift 
a man off his feet with the severity of the blow. 
As it is the duty of the officer of each shop to 
flog the prisoners under his charge when they 
are to be punished, it is hardly necessary to say 
that Hausmann went to bed that night very 
little the worse for his thirteen lashes, while Part¬ 
ridge was not fit to work again for three days, 
and had to be kept in bed, locked up in his 
cell. . 

The next afternoon Hausmann had cut his 
task of sixty-six feet of molding before dinner, 
and he spent the entire afternoon replacing the 
little sticks to the best of his memory. The next 
day at dinner-time they were all thrown on the 
floor again. 

The officer of the shop looked foolish. So did 
Hausmann. Perhaps it had not been Partridge, 
after all ! ft could not be his fault this time, for 
he was in bed in his cell. They would set a watch 
next day and see what happened. The mystery 
was soon explained. One of the warden’s chil¬ 
dren, who had the run of the prison, had dis¬ 
covered the flower-box and had pulled out the 
sticks, thinking, as he innocently explained, that 
all the dirty little pieces of wood were in the way 
of the pretty little green things, and that he was 
weeding the garden, as it were. 


LESS CASE 

The officer strolled over to Hausmann's bench 
during the afternoon to talk it over. 

"It's tough on Garbage, 0 he said, "but 1 
don’t see how we can do much now." 

" But think once. I must apologize or some¬ 
thing to him." 

"Apologize ! Faith, it’s me should apologize, 
I gave him the best licking he ever got in his life. 
My arm is stiff yet." 

"If you tell the General, he goes loose, per¬ 
haps." 

"Tell the General nothing. Fle’d lick the kid, 
then, and go for me for telling him as how 1 
knowed Garbage was the one as done it and you 
had cause. Don't say nothing, and I’ll fix Gar¬ 
bage when he comes out." 

The minister dropped in that’afternoon. He 
had heard all about the fight from the warden. 
But for his discovery of the real culprit, the offi¬ 
cer of the shop would have put a much blacker 
face on it for Partridge than he did. The poor 
clergyman, who was left to believe that Partridge 
had pulled the sticks, looked very' much dis¬ 
couraged, and told the officer he feared he should 
never be able to do anything with such a mis¬ 
chief-maker, an opinion in which the officer 
heartily joined. 

"That fellow," he said, "why, he’s that rot¬ 
ten, saltpeter wouldn't save him." 

Meeting his friend, the fat man, next Sunday, 
the minister had to confess that he was no nearer 
the hundred dollars than he had been a month 
before. This last escapade appeared to make 
the case more hopeless than ever. His patron 
seemed rather to enjoy the confession, as if it 
were part of some game in which he was getting 
the better. 

"That fellow Garbage," he said, "he’s a bird. 
He’s pure cussedness, he is. Just think what a 
terror he must have been to his mother. He’s 
what my friend the professor calls too gener¬ 
ous -" 

"Sui generis , I think you mean, if you will 
pardon the correction." 

"That sounds more like it. Every time I 
think about that officer dozing in front of the 
stove with the leather cuttings on his lap, and 
that fellow Garbage putting down the names to 
give to the warden, I have to laugh. Oh, he’s a 
bird ! He’s the whole show in that prison." 

I n spite of the officer’s advice, H ausmann took 
an early opportunity to get next to Partridge at 
the washing-sink after the quitting-bell rang, 
and told him the truth about the sticks, apolo¬ 
gized to him, and offered him his hand. Par¬ 
tridge seemed dazed at first. The explanation 
he passed over, as a man will do who has been 
accustomed all his life to be blamed for things 
he has never done, but the proffered hand was 





R. F. FOSTER 


too much for him. He took it, all soapy as it 
was, and looked at the German as if he expected 
some trick. 

“That’s all right, pard,” he said. “You was 
hot under the collar about them sprouts, 1 know. 
It was me started the fight.” 

The officer saw them talking, and next morn¬ 
ing he asked Hausmann about it. 

“Now he’ll rush to the General and tell him 
the whole thing, and do the baby act about 
always getting punished for nothing, and try to 
get square on you.” 

But Partridge did not make any report to the 
warden. Instead of trying to “get square” on 
the German, he rather seemed to presume on the 
handshake as a justification for dropping around 
to the south window after his task was done and 
watching the progress of the “sprouts.” Little 
by little, he got to know when to bring water 
for them, and he would always have it ready 
for Hausmann before he could get it himself. 
Then he learned the names of the plants and 
asked curious questions about their peculiari¬ 
ties. 

“Them things is alive, ain’t they?” he said 
one day. “If you don’t feed ’em and give ’em 
water they’d die, wouldn’t they?” 

“Wait once,” said Hausmann. “Wait until 
they have full grown become. Then you see 
something fine.” 

Every afternoon, when the flowers actually 
did begin to bloom, Partridge was at the window 
as soon as his task was done. He watched those 
buds as jealously as a grandmother watches 
the first baby that gives her the title. Not the 
smallest leaf could wither or turn brown that 
he did not spy it out and report it to Hausmann. 
He knew the exact number of blossoms on every 
plant and could tell you within an hour the time 
they should be in full bloom. The men in the 
shop began to call him the Assistant Gardener, 
and some of the witty ones remarked that they 
had often heard garbage was a good thing to 
make plants grow. Others said they believed 
that if any of the smell were missing from the 
mignonettes in the morning, Garbage would 
complain to the General about it. 

One beautiful afternoon in May, Hausmann 
was perched on the inner window-sill, with 
his hands round his knees, sunning himself, 
while Partridge was watering the flowers, of 
which there were now two boxes in full bloom. 
The minister came through the shop and spoke 
to Hausmann, but seemed to avoid Partridge, 
whose manner clearly showed that he did not 
want any further conversation with the repre¬ 
sentative of the Church. 

“ 1 hear you are leaving us very soon,” he 
said. “I trust we shall not see you here again, 


265 

but if there is anything I can do for you, you 
must let me know.” 

When he was gone, Partridge came closer to 
Hausmann. 

“ You’se is going out next month?” 

“ If I don’t for fighting lose any more good- 
conduct time,” said the German, laughing. 

“Gimme them flowers when you goes out?” 

The German turned quickly on his questioner, 
as if intending to laugh at such a suggestion. 
But the look in his companion’s eyes stopped 
him. It seemed to him like the appealing look 
of a dog. He had not thought particularly of 
what he should do with the flower-boxes when 
his time was up, but the idea of giving them to 
so unpopular a prisoner as Partridge did not 
strike him favorably. He had several good 
friends in the prison, any of whom would be glad 
to get such a present. 

“They’se mine when you goes out, ain’t 
they?” persisted Partridge. 

“We shall see once,” was all the answer he 
could get that day. 

Next day and every day it was the same ap¬ 
peal, and when another prisoner happened to 
ask for them in his presence, all the old spite and 
hate seemed to flash into the prisoner’s face. 

“I asked him fust,” he said, “and they’se 
mine. What do you know about flowers, any¬ 
way ?” 

The other turned away with some contemp¬ 
tuous remark, and the officer came over to see 
what the loud talking was about. He had not 
reported Partridge for a month now, and the 
General was so much pleased that the officer 
felt the improvement due entirely to his good 
management. He did not want to break the 
charm, by reporting him now for such a trifle as 
talking. 

On the officer’s advice, Hausmann bequeathed 
the flowers to Partridge when he left the prison, 
and their new owner took possession of his prop¬ 
erty with an enthusiasm that became the talk of 
theshop. He rearranged the plants to suit hisown 
ideas of color effects, and the General stopped 
to admire them one day on his rounds, and 
complimented Partridge on his taste. The pris¬ 
oner took immediate advantage of the occasion 
to ask permission to have two more boxes, so 
that there would be one in every south window. 

“For heaven’s sake,” said the General to the 
officer of the shop, “give that man anything he 
asks for, if it is not against the rules, just so he 
keeps up his streak of good behavior. He seems 
to be dead stuck on those flowers. I would put 
him in charge of the flower-beds out front, only 
I am afraid he would run away. Besides, the 
idea of making a trusty out of Partridge is some¬ 
thing too funny for anything.” 


266 


1 11 E HOPELESS CASE 


“ His time is up in September, General. 1 
don’t believe he would run away. Leastways, 
not while his flowers was in bloom.” This was 
said with an air of personal responsibility and 
guaranty that had its weight, and so it came to 
pass that Partridge was soon after made a 
trusty, one of the few chosen prisoners who are 
selected to do little odd jobs about the warden’s 
house outside the principal gates of the prison. 
The taste that the warden had remarked soon 
showed itself in the rearrangement of the flower¬ 
beds out in front, and on the next board day 
each member of the board of directors got such 
a bouquet as the prison had never produced be¬ 
fore. On the Fourth of July, by permission of 
the General, Partridge was allowed to give a 
little nosegay of red, white, and blue blossoms 
to each of the men in the marble-shop, and the 
officer took home a big bunch to his wife. 

“We’ll have to quit calling that fellow Gar¬ 
bage,” remarked one of the old-timers. “I’m 
beginning to think he’s the real thing, after all.” 

The minister strolled in during the afternoon 
of the Fourth, to see the prisoners enjoy the en¬ 
tertainment usually provided for such holidays. 
Rarely coming into the prison now except on 
Sundays, he did not know of the advance in 
Partridge’s position, and was surprised to see 
him in the front garden, which he knew was a 
position of trust. The prisoner did not speak to 
him, and apparently shunned him, as usual. 
The minister’s curiosity prompted him to speak 
to the warden about it, and he soon heard the 
whole story. Ilis hopeless case of two months 
ago had become one of the best-behaved pris¬ 
oners in the institution. 

The clergyman had no recollection of the 
flower-boxes in the marble-shop, Itut the beds 
before him were very evident. I le stood on the 
top step and looked at them like a man in a 
dream. He thought of all the hatred the man 
before him had inspired, the deviltry he had com¬ 
mitted, and the punishment he had endured, lie 
thought of all the efTorts he had made to reform 
him, of all the things he had spoken to him 
about, the times he had pleaded with him and 
tlie prayers he had offered for him. What had 
he accomplished? Nothing! The terrors of 
the law, the discipline of the prison, the plead¬ 
ing of religion, had been piled upon this man 
in vain; but God, in His own good time, had 
placed before him a few paltry blossoms in a 
wooden box, and the sound spot in the rotten 
heart was found. 

He had no taste for variety entertainments 
now. He felt in some wav humiliated and 
ashamed in the presence of this objecf-lesson, 
and wanted to confide his trouble to some one, 
so he walked round to see his friend, the fat 


man. I le found him sitting in the shade on his 
front steps. 

“That man Partridge is reformed,” he said 
very quietly, after he had shaken hands. 

“You don’t mean it !” said the man of busi¬ 
ness, with a shade of disappointment in his lone. 
“Then I owe you a hundred.” 

“No; 1 am sorry to say I had nothing to do 
with it;” and then he sat down and told him all 
about it. 

“You get your hundred just the same,” said 
the other, when the story was finished. “ But I 
want to see those flowers. Let’s take a walk over 
there now. I always said that fellow was a bird.” 

In September Partridge put on his freedom 
suit and passed out from the prison walls. The 
officer of the marble-shop shook hands with him 
warmly. Many of his old enemies among the 
prisoners wished him good luck, and some even 
seemed sorry to see him go. The minister and 
his fat friend met him in the warden’s office, and 
the fat man insisted on shaking hands with him 
and getting a hack to drive him to the train. 
Partridge said he lived up North, and he wanted 
to go home first of all and sec if any of the old 
folks were left. When they got to the station, 
the fat man told the minister that he wanted 
to talk to Partridge alone. 

“ Look here, Garbage,” he said; “ 1 beg pardon, 

I mean Partridge. You ought to be a florist or 
house decorator,or something in that line. After 
you get through with your friends up North, pick 
out some good town and start in for yourself in a 
small way. There’s my card. You can draw on 
me for any part of a thousand if you want it, and 
I’ll give you five years to pay it back. If you 
never pay it back, 1 won’t miss it, so don’t let that 
worry you. No thanks,” he said, pushing back 
the extended hands; “ I’m out a hundred on you 
for a starter, and I'm going to finish the job.” 

There is to-day, in a Western town, a florist 
with a flourishing business, who has been many 
times advised to move to the big cities of (he 
l ast, where his taste in decoration would be 
even better rewarded than it is now. But he 
seems to think himself better off where he is. 
He owns his shop and the house he lives in, 
always has a balance in the bank, and bears the 
reputation of being as straight as a string, lie 
enjoys tlie respect of the entire community, and 
has apparently nothing to wish for, although 
many people wonder why he never married. I le 
might have been a director in the local bank and 
a deacon in the church, hut he seems to avoid 
publicity as much as possible. 11 is only ex¬ 
pressed regret is that he never had an education; 
Ids only secret regret is that there is one thing 
about him that is, and always will be, false: the 
name over his shop is not Partridge. 




SANTY-LAN’ 

B Y 

ROSALIE M. JONAS 


N OW listen, little chillun, git closer roun’ my knees, 

Till I tells you-all 'bout Santy-Lan’, 

Whar Santy Claus de onlies' man. 

An* ev’ywhar yer walks er stan', 

De woods is cram’ wid Chris’mus Trees,— 

Jes’ jam' an’ cram' wid nuthin' but shinin' Chris’mus Trees! 

It on a way-off Islan’, in way-off monst'us seas! 

An’ ev'y Tree in Santy-Lan’ 

Grow Candy-berries, onderstan’, 

An’ Trumpet-flowers, ter beat de ban’! 

An’ Pop-Corn pop on all de Trees, — 

Jes' pop, an’ drop, an’ dangle f’um all de Chris’mus Trees! 

On Chris’mus Eve, ole Santy, he pick ’em at his ease; 

An’ all de Deers in Santy-Lan’,— 

Dey all Rein-Deers, yer onderstan’,— 

Come runnin’, when he clap his han\—• 

Chase outen clumps er Chris’mus Trees,— 

Jes' race an’ chase, help Santy cyart all his Chris’mus Trees! 

When dey hitch' up an’ raidy, den Santy mighty please' ! 

Ca’se ev’y Deer in Santy-Lan’ 

Draw Santy' Sleigh, yer onderstan',— 

So big an’ bright an' red an' gran’! 

Pile’ high wid shinin’ Chris’mus Trees,— 

Jes’ heaps, yer know, fur high an’ low, er Santy' shinin’ Trees! 

"Is you-all gwine ter git one?” "Is 1 know sure ef he 
Gwine tote yer one f’um Santy-Lan’?” 

I ain't know certain , onderstan’, 

But ef you-all ac’ good’s yer can, 

Dey mought be jes' one Chris’mus Tree, 

(Don’t shout, I ain’t say is, but mought) one Pickinninny Tree! 





THE APPEAL OF THE STAGE 


BY 

JAMES L. FORD 


C ERTAIN excellent persons are con¬ 
stantly lamenting the fact that the 
“educated classes/' as they mod¬ 
estly term themselves and their 
kind, are practically without influ¬ 
ence in stage affairs. They cry out dolefully 
that our managers are not college-bred men, 
and that our dramas are not written or acted 
by men and women of education — all of which 
is perfectly true: a college education plays a 
very small part in the important work of sup¬ 
plying the American people with dramatic en¬ 
tertainment. It is equally true that, of the 
hundreds of young graduates who each year 
after Commencement Day turn their steps 
toward the stage-door, their minds well stored 
with “advanced learning/' their hearts beating 
high with hope, not one ever reaches a place of 
real eminence in the profession of acting. 

It is no mere accident that causes college- 
bred men and women to fail in this most diffi¬ 
cult field of endeavor, while hundreds of humble 
birth and the most limited intellectual training 
find in it success and fortune. 

University Courses in Play-writing 

For many years I was haunted by a suspicion 
that students were taught wrongly in our in¬ 
stitutions of learning, and I once ventured to 
“protest against the custom of permitting ig¬ 
norant and incompetent teachers to fill the 
minds of students with absolutely false ideas of 
the drama,” while almost every useful art ex¬ 
cept that of play-writing was intelligently 
taught in our universities. This brought me a 
courteous letter of dissent from a Harvard un¬ 
dergraduate that caused the scales to fall from 
my eyes, so that I could thereafter see quite 
clearly. 

“It seems to me,” said my correspondent, 
“that you are a bit too sweeping in your con¬ 
demnation of university courses dealing with 
the drama. Here at Harvard there is a course, 
English CV., which treats the English drama 
from the beginnings until 1642. Another 
course, English CIX., treats the drama from 
1642 until the present time.” 

268 


What would be said of an art-school in which 
the history of painters and painting constituted 
the entire course of study? Let us now read 
what my correspondent says, in another para¬ 
graph, concerning the way in which the relation 
between the audience and the actor or the 
dramatist, which is the very life and breath of 
all stage art, is treated at Harvard. 

“The false notions of play-writing which you 
speak of are certainly not inculcated,” says my 
correspondent. “Our instructor has laid spe¬ 
cial stress on the necessity of pleasing and ap¬ 
pealing to popular audiences if one is to enjoy 
any dramatic success. He has pointed out 
how careful Shakspere was in this matter.” 

Here we have a taste of the milk in the uni¬ 
versity cocoanuf — a milk that is one of mere 
amiable indifferent toleration of what is really 
the very marrow in the backbone of the drama. 
It is quite evident that although it is admitted 
that it is a good thing to “please and appeal to 
popular audiences,” there are other things that 
academic philosophy holds of far higher value 
— the literary quality, perhaps, or characteri¬ 
zation, or local color, or what is known in the 
lexicon of parlor philanthropy as the “uplift.” 
Can we wonder that embryo dramatists who 
have been fed on such stuff as this fail when 
they essay the real work of the stage? 

Aiming at the Hearts of the Audience 

Not until students of the drama are shown 
from the very first that the entire art of the 
stage must of necessity be aimed directly at the 
hearts of the audience, and that a real play 
does not contain a single scene in which that 
audience has not an equity of at least one third, 
can we look to academic halls for our managers 
or playwrights or actors. 

Compare this sophomoric attitude of conde¬ 
scension toward the audience with the respect, 
nay, reverence,, of Mr. Bronson Howard, as 
shown in his address a few years ago to the 
younger members of the play-writing guild: 

“Consider that awful thing that you have 
there before you — that collection of human 
hearts!” 


JAMES L. FORD 269 


And no man of the playhouse — whether 
actor, manager, or playwright — who does not 
place himself in an attitude of humility and 
look upward toward that "collection of human 
hearts" that he calls his audience can ever hope 
to win the kind of enduring success that has 
been the reward of Bronson Howard, and 
David Belasco, and Henry Irving, and Sarah 
Bernhardt, and Eleanora Duse. 

Let me endeavor to make myself quite clear. 
In any worthy stage production, the art of the 
dramatist is so completely blended with that of 
the actor that it is impossible for the layman 
to say where the one begins and the other ends. 
The manager has, or should have, an important 
part to play in the work of welding the two to¬ 
gether. When all three work together intelli¬ 
gently and harmoniously, we have an art that 
is so smooth and so perfectly blended that it is 
almost impossible to pick out any one of the 
three essentials from which it is made. 

And the art of the stage, in which the work 
of the actor, the dramatist, and the producer 
are intimately associated, attacks the sym¬ 
pathies of the audience in a succession of crafty 
appeals to that which is variously termed its 
sense of humor, its pity, its sympathy, or its 
favor, but which, in every case, is merely a 
consciousness of its own superiority over the 
character assumed by the actor. And in 
nearly every case we may trace that sense of 
superiority directly back to the fact that the 
character making the appeal knows less of 
what is going on about him in his mimic world 
than do either the other characters in the play 
or the man who looks down upon them all from 
his orchestra-chair or from his bench in the 
gallery. 

By the sense of superiority on the part of an 
auditor I mean the feeling that he is better off 
than the character; that the latter is in hum¬ 
bler circumstances than himself, in greater per¬ 
sonal danger, suffering more from illness or 
poverty, compelled to wear ragged clothes, or 
in some respect occupying a position calculated 
to awaken his sympathy and pity. And, un¬ 
less the actor can succeed in creating in the 
hearts of those who listen to him the feeling 
that they are better off or more fortunate than 
he is, unless he can compel even the humblest 
of his spectators to look down upon him with 
the feeling that: "Poor and ragged and unfor¬ 
tunate I may be, but I am more to be envied 
than that man on the stage — or less ridicu¬ 
lous," — according to whether the play be 
tragedy or farce,— all his efforts will be in vain, 
and not even the finest technical equipment in 
the world will enable him to command the in¬ 
terest of the spectators. 


This is as true of the great dramas of history 
as of those of the mimic scene. Marie An¬ 
toinette on the throne of France, surrounded by 
a brilliant court, reigning by force of beauty 
and charm as well as by rank, is no heroine; but 
the unhappy queen, torn from her husband, 
stripped of her crown, her jewels, and her power, 
her hair whitened by the stress of her sorrow, 
dragged through the ranks of the jeering, en¬ 
venomed mob to the guillotine, is an ideal stage 
heroine for all time. No woman in the audi¬ 
ence, no matter how poor and lowly and unfor¬ 
tunate, but can look down and say: "Beautiful 
and queenly and splendid as was that woman 
but yesterday, her lot is less enviable than 
mine," and the tears will well into her eyes and 
anoint this queen a stage heroine. 

The Greatest Heart-moving Story 

In the greatest drama that was ever played on 
earth’s stage, it is not the immortality, the 
greatness, the divine birth of Him who was its 
central figure, but rather His meekness and 
lowliness, His sufferings and His ignominious 
death, that have left their indelible impress on 
the hearts of all mankind, and have made the 
cross, not the crown, the symbol of the faith 
that He founded. And it is because of the 
great, heart-moving story that lay behind it 
two thousand years ago that this cross can still 
bring hardened, ignorant, or unregenerate men 
to their knees. This could never be done with 
a scepter or a crown. 

And what is true of this religion is true of all 
others, and especially of that love of the 
mother, which is a religion followed more faith¬ 
fully and by a larger number of men than any 
other that the world knows. That also is 
founded on the sufferings and self-sacrifice en¬ 
dured by the object of that love. 

Let me illustrate my meaning by an object- 
lesson in primitive play-building, in which the 
audience shall receive the consideration which 
is its rightful due, and without which the play 
would fail for lack of the quality that we call 
"human interest," but that is nothing more 
than the relative degrees of knowledge enjoyed 
by the audience and the players. 

Let us imagine ourselves seated at a window 
looking out upon a plain, which is to be the 
scene of a drama of the most simple construc¬ 
tion and founded on the most primitive of 
themes — the love of life. At one end of this 
plain is a steep precipice, plainly visible to the 
people who are walking to and fro as well as to 
those who are regarding them from the windows 
of the house that serves as the auditorium. In 
the parlors of this house are assembled men and 
women of the greatest wealth, intelligence, and 


THE APPEAL OF THE STAGE 


270 

refinement, college professors, bankers, philos¬ 
ophers, and women who lead in philanthropy 
and society. On the upper floors are what 
Lincoln called "the plain people"; and clus¬ 
tered on the roof are newsboys, maid-servants, 
day-laborers, and others, of limited education 
but of quick sympathies. 

And we must imagine, also, that all these 
spectators are held fast by a spell of convention 
that prevents them from crying out or inter¬ 
fering with what is going on before their eyes. 
The only danger-point in the scene that lies 
before them is the precipice; and, as that is 
quite patent to all, to the dwellers on the plain 
as well as to the inmates of the house, the scene 
offers nothing of real dramatic interest until the 
crowd disappears and a blind man begins to 
grope his way toward the precipice. He is the 
hero of the drama, because he knows less than, 
and is therefore inferior to, any one in the audi¬ 
ence; for even the smallest and grimiest news¬ 
boy on the roof of the house can see, and begins 
to look down with compassionate interest upon 
the man who cannot. 

The attention of all the inmates of the house 
has been aroused, and the course of the blind 
man as he gropes his way toward the danger- 
point is watched with a feeling of anxious in¬ 
terest that averages the same in all parts of the 
house; for the love of life is as strong within 
the breast of the millionaire as in that of the 
bootblack or organ-grinder, and the entire scene 
is so well within the comprehension of all that 
it begins to look as if the ideal American drama 
were about to be presented to us. 

An Illustration of Dramatic Values 

And now the heroine appears, walking slowly 
and with downcast eyes, until by chance she 
sees the blind man marching toward his doom. 
She cannot cry out, because she is deaf and 
dumb — to which circumstance is due the fact 
that she is a heroine; but she starts to run, 
though it is quite apparent that long before she 
can cover the distance all will be over. 

The audience is in despair. The women are 
sobbing and beginning to turn their faces away, 
and the men are grinding their teeth and clench¬ 
ing their fists in impotent fury because of the 
spell of convention that prevents them from 
going to the rescue. At this moment a labor¬ 
ing-man is seen coming from his day's toil 
down a path that will cross that along which 
the heroine is flying on her mad errand. En¬ 
tirely unconscious of the drama that is being 
enacted before him, and for this reason alone 
an object of interest to the audience, the work¬ 
man plods on, and, just as the fate of the blind 
man seems hopeless, he crosses the heroine’s 


path. She seizes him by the arm and points 
mutely to the man who is groping his way to¬ 
ward death. It is impossible to reach him in 
time, but the workman lifts his voice in a 
mighty shout of warning. The blind man 
hears him, stops, turns round, and is saved; 
and the audience gives vent to its feelings in a 
tumult of applause. 

The drama that I have described, primitive 
as it is and appealing only to those elemental 
instincts which are to be found in practically 
every human heart, is a genuine thing in its 
way, and one that has proved of thorough and 
cumulative interest, as we can readily see, from 
the first appearance of the blind man walking 
toward the precipice down to the moment when 
the laboring-man stays his course with his cry 
of warning. There is not a moment that does 
not find even the humblest of the auditors su¬ 
perior to the actors: to the blind man, who 
knows not of his danger; to the agonized hero¬ 
ine, who cannot cry out; and to the workman, 
who is plodding along, entirely ignorant of 
what is going on close to him, and quite likely 
to pursue his path unseen by the flying woman. 
It will be observed, also, that the drama comes 
to an end as soon as the blind man is apprised 
of his danger, for in that moment all of the 
three actors have become the equals of the 
audience in their knowledge, and are of no 
further dramatic value. 

It is quite an easy matter to introduce into 
this drama a little well-timed comedy. Just 
as the blind man is saved let a yokel in his 
Sunday best come flying to the rescue; and, 
for fear that his excellent motives should rob 
his auditors of some of their just dues in laugh¬ 
ter, let us imagine that he is moved not so 
much by valor and a desire to succor the un¬ 
fortunate as by a wish to show off before his 
sweetheart. Therefore we will allow him to 
come tearing along the path and into an unseen 
mud-puddle, where he lies sprawling at full 
length. And the laughter that will arise from 
all parts of the house, and that it will arise is 
an absolute certainty, will be due to that sense 
of superiority which but a moment ago was 
paying its tribute of tears; for there is no one 
in that audience who does not rejoice at the 
thought that he himself is not lying in that 
mud-puddle, a ridiculous object in the sight of 
his sweetheart and of all men. 

We have now in our little drama a serious 
hero who is blind, a serious heroine who is deaf 
and dumb (and for whom match-making women 
in the audience are already making plans), and 
a comic hero who is lying at full length, be¬ 
spattered with mud and slime, a living, gasping 
proof of the fact that the comedian as well as 


JAMES L. FORD 


the serious actor must place himself below the 
audience in order to win its approval. 

The Element of Humor 

For every bit of stage humor that is genuine is 
merely a case of some one getting the worst of 
it. Among the primitive people of an elder 
day, this humor finds expression in such simple 
essays in buffoonery as a clown pursuing an¬ 
other with a red-hot poker, pulling away a chair 
when the butt of the joke attempts to sit 
down, and making effective use of the bladder, 
the slap-stick, and the string of sausages as 
weapons of assault; and, in every instance, the 
man who gets the worst of it, who is beaten 
with the slap-stick or chased with the red-hot 
poker, is the comedian, while his accomplice, 
who gets the best of him at every point, is 
merely a ‘'feeder,” and a person of but trifling 
interest in the.eyes of the audience. 

The same rule applies to Bob Acres, in “The 
Rivals,” who is trembling with fright because he 
has to fight a duel; and to Falstaff, who, being 
fat, appeals humorously, as the blind man does 
seriously, to the auditor’s feeling that he him¬ 
self is better off than either of the two, being 
neither blind nor fat. In “The Mascot” we 
have Prince Lorenzo, whose tatters are almost 
as funny as Falstaff’s fat, and there is no farce 
extant, from “Box and Cox” down to the 
Willie Collier plays, in which the hero is not a 
man of catastrophe and misfortune. In the 
higher and more delicate forms of comedy, the 
comedian need not be buffeted about, and may 
be merely the victim of a verbal thrust, but he 
must get the worst of it or the audience will 
not laugh. 

It will be observed that in the imaginary 
scene that I have described nothing has oc¬ 
curred that would not be likely to interest, 
with equal force and at the same moment, 
every person in the audience, from the banker 
and college professor on the parlor floor to the 
grimy newsboy on the roof; for the appeal thus 
far has been entirely to the elemental emotions, 
and no one can truthfully say that the sym¬ 
pathies are quicker in one grade of life than in 
another. In this respect, as well as in others, 
my drama is based on the soundest principles; 
for the ideal play must appeal to every one, and 
not to a single class. 

In saying this, I am well aware of the fact 
that most people consider that it is a great 
thing to write a play that will reach only the 
intellectual classes. The real difficulty of the 
business is to write something that will reach 
all. Moreover, it is comparatively easy to 
make one’s self understood by an intelligent 
and cultivated mind, and extremely difficult to 


271 

make an impression on one that is untutored, 
narrow, and consequently unsympathetic. In 
fact, it is a far more difficult thing to construct 
a melodrama or broad farce that will achieve 
genuine success in a cheap East Side theater 
than to win the well-bred approval of the 
Browning following with a reading of “In a 
Balcony” by elocutionists in costume — a form 
of entertainment that masquerades as a drama 
only in the most intellectual and advanced cir¬ 
cles of society and would never deceive any one 
anywhere else. 

And now, having considered a play in which 
the actors are inferior to the audience in point 
of knowledge, let us imagine the same play 
with actors who know more than the houseful 
of people looking at them. It is quite obvious 
that if the audience were composed entirely of 
the deaf and dumb and blind, there would be 
no drama, because they would not know even 
as much as the blind hero, who could at least 
hear the warning shout of the workman. If 
the actors all knew of the existence of the preci¬ 
pice, and the audience did not, there would be 
no interest whatever. And suppose that the 
yokel, in falling down, were to uncover a rich 
deposit of gold — more than one mine has been 
stumbled upon in this way — or to come upon 
a diamond necklace for which all the charac¬ 
ters in the play were looking. Would there be 
any laughter then? He would be just as 
muddy and ridiculous in aspect as if he had 
merely fallen down, but he would cease to be 
funny, for he would have the best of us all. 

In order to consider the possibilities of a 
scene in which the actors know more than the 
audience, we must turn to the later years of the 
great Darwin, when he was studying the habits 
of earthworms with the deepest interest. 
Knowing more than they did, he was an ideal 
audience; and for that very reason he must 
have been to them what every stage character 
is to the audience that is inferior to him, 
either a villain or a bore — the first when he 
destroyed their homes, the second when he in¬ 
vestigated them closely, like a charity visitor. 

Like Bluffing at Poker 

The actor who is cast for a part of heroic mold 
must realize from the very first that, even when 
simulating pride and state and power, he must 
in some way make his audience feel above him 
if he would score a success. It is impossible to 
think of the great Napoleon without remember¬ 
ing St. Helena, or of Lincoln without his crown 
of martyrdom, or of Colonel Newcome save as 
one whose heart had been as that of a little child. 
If his part be a good one, it will be touched by 
the quality of self-sacrifice or suffering, and 


272 


THE APPEAL OF THE STAGE 


this quality can be accentuated only by sheer 
force of appeal to his audience. He need not 
make this appeal broadly and openly, by com¬ 
ing down to the footlights and asking the spec¬ 
tators to pity him; he must do it without being 
found out, as if he were bluffing at a game of 
poker. And to do this legitimately he must 
employ his voice, which should be so well 
trained as to enable him to touch a note of de¬ 
spair or joy or rage or hope as accurately as 
Joseffy touches a musical note on the piano. 

Sarah Bernhardt replied to a young girl who 
asked her what was the best natural equipment 
for a stage career: "First of all, a voice.” And 
if there be one actress above all others whose 
career has proved the truth of this theory, it is 
the gifted Frenchwoman whose voice, even 
when used through the medium of an unfamiliar 
tongue, has reached so many thousands of 
hearts and brought tears to so many thousands 
of eyes. 

It was by means of the voice that Clara Mor¬ 
ris won her great success the first night she 
played in New York. It is by the use of the 
voice alone that Mrs. Carter makes her hys¬ 
terical and moving appeals in '‘Zaza” and in 
the last act of '‘Du Barry.” It was through 
her voice, and in a medium even less under¬ 
stood than that of Bernhardt, that Duse con¬ 
quered a hardened and cynical New York 
audience in a single night. It is the tear- 
compelling quality in David Warfield’s voice 
more than anything else that has made his 
Music Master and Auctioneer sympathetic, ap¬ 
pealing stage figures. It is the pathetic, trem¬ 
ulous little voice of Peter Pan that haunts the 
memory and draws us back to the theater, 
that we may place ourselves once more under 
Miss Adams' magic spell. 

There is no man living who, by merely read¬ 
ing a manuscript play, can do more than haz¬ 
ard a guess as to its dramatic value, or even say 
with certainty which one of its characters is 
destined to make the deepest impression on its 
audiences. I am not exaggerating when I say 
that a man who could judge a manuscript as 
well as the tea-taster judges tea, or the carpet- 
buyer judges rugs, could easily earn a quarter 
of a million a year as a play-reader, and at the 
same time have the satisfaction of knowing 
that he was saving his employer twice that 
sum. 

Mr. Charles Frohman, whom I questioned on 
the subject, says that he devoutly hopes that 
no man will ever succeed in completely master¬ 
ing the business of play-reading, because it will 
rob theatricals of the fascinating element of 
chance and compel him to seek some other 
means of livelihood. Nevertheless, I think 


Mr. Frohman would cheerfully pay a drama- 
expert the salary that I have named. 

Impossible to Judge a Drama by Reading It 

There are many reasons why it is impossible to 
judge a drama by reading it, and not the least 
of these reasons is the difficulty in estimating 
the relative values of the self-sacrifice, the suf¬ 
fering, and the degrees of knowledge of what is 
going on in the mimic scene possessed by the 
different characters. For a single individual 
to view all these matters in the same light that 
an audience which has not yet been assembled 
will regard them, is one of the most difficult 
feats imaginable; yet that audience, consist¬ 
ing, perhaps, of three thousand individuals, 
taken from every walk of life and representing 
a hundred shades of intelligence, refinement, 
and education, will be found practically unani¬ 
mous in its approval of a really good play prop¬ 
erly presented, as well as in its condemnation 
of one that violates the immutable laws of the 
drama. 

But who is there that can say, after reading 
the manuscript of "Hamlet,” why Hamlet, 
who apparently knows more than any one else, 
should be the center of interest, rather than 
the King, who knows nothing of what is going 
on? I confess that I cannot explain it my¬ 
self; but a friend tells me that Hamlet, with 
all his knowledge, is nevertheless ignorant of 
his own self, of his own incapacity, of his own 
inability to take care of himself, and that is the 
sort of ignorance of which stage heroes are 
often made. The same is true of Uncle Tom, 
whose self-sacrifice may be traced directly to 
his ignorance. Apparently he knows as much 
about what is going on as Legree or Little Eva 
or Eliza or any of them; but if he were not the 
soul of blind, ignorant devotion, if he were 
what is termed a "smart nigger,” he would 
run away, as Eliza did, instead of allowing his 
benevolent master to sell him down South. 

A wonderfully clever piece of stage-work is 
the drama constructed by Mr. William Gillette 
from the Sherlock Holmes stories; yet how 
many people in the audience realize that, in 
order to make his hero acceptable, the drama¬ 
tist found it necessary entirely to change his 
character from the superlatively wise detective 
to one who knows so little of what is going on 
about him that he permits himself to be en¬ 
trapped and disarmed by the astute Moriarty 
and his gang, and is only saved by his quick¬ 
ness and presence of mind from paying for his 
folly with his life? In the book, Moriarty, the 
dominant mind in the profession of robbery, is 
a figure of no small interest and importance; 
but in the play, for that very reason, he is 




JAMES L. FORD 


valueless except when defeated by his arch¬ 
enemy. 

The familiar drama of "Rip Van Winkle" is 
a remarkable example not only of the value of 
ignorance as a heroic attribute, but also of how 
the sympathies of an audience may be won for 
an unworthy object by means of a meretricious 
but clever trick. Scores of persons tried, with¬ 
out success, to dramatize Washington Irving's 
story, but it was not until that most gifted of 
all play-builders and stage-carpenters, Dion 
Boucicault, took the book in hand that an act¬ 
ing play was created. Boucicault saw at a 
glance that something must be done to make 
this village drunkard acceptable to the women 
in the audience, and he did it by deliberately 
trading on the feminine fear of a thunder¬ 
storm. If Rip had been put out of doors on a 
fair afternoon, the piece would not have lasted 
a week; but a little bit of stage thunder and 
lightning produced an artificial respiration that 
bids fair to keep it alive for eternity. For 
every woman thanks her stars that she is not 
out on the mountain-side in that dreadful 
storm. 

In the last act. Rip not only knows less than 
any one in the audience, but his ignorance is 
even more dense than that of any one on the 
stage; for all the others know that there has 
been a revolution, while the poor old graybeard 
is vaguely wondering why a portrait bearing 
the name of Washington should have replaced 
on the sign-board that of his Majesty George 
the Third, whose loyal subject he was but yes¬ 
terday. The audience, moreover, is superior 
to every one on the stage, knowing, what none 
of the characters does, that Rip has been asleep 
for twenty years. 

" The Two Orphans '’ as an Example 

In "The Two Orphans" we find an admirable 
example of the great strength of a character in 
which suffering that springs from ignorance is 
the dominant note. When the parts of this 
play were first given out by Mr. Palmer to the 
members of his Union Square Theater com¬ 
pany, there was a general feeling of pity for 
Miss Kate Claxton, who had received that of 
Louise, the blind orphan, which was the short¬ 
est of them all in the number of its spoken 
words. But the actors of that day were, like 
those of the present generation, " part-hefters," 
by which I mean those who judge the value of 
a part by its length, or by "hefting" it to see 
how much it weighs. 

It is doubtful if any one in the theater, with 
the possible exception of Cazauran, the stage- 
manager, realized, before the curtain went up, 
the amount of dramatic interest that was con¬ 


273 

tained within the few pages of Miss Claxton’s 
part. Yet the entire audience recognized it at 
the first presentation of the play, and subse¬ 
quent audiences of two generations of play¬ 
goers confirmed its opinion. And Miss Clax¬ 
ton ultimately starred in this little part with 
enormous success, and so thoroughly identified 
herself with the blind girl of the great French 
melodrama that it is difficult for the public to 
conceive of her in any other role. And all be¬ 
cause of the helplessness of Louise, who, being 
blind, knows less of what is going on than any 
of the other characters, and, consequently, is 
in greater danger! 

Othello is interesting because he does not 
know that Iago is a rascal and that Desdemona 
is innocent; and Desdemona, in her turn, 
awakens sympathy when she does not know 
that her husband is about to kill her. Pauline, 
in "The Lady of Lyons," is interesting because 
she does not know as much about her husband 
as the audience does, and the same may be said 
of the wife of Jim the Penman. 

For years, both Miss Maude Adams and Miss 
Ethel Barrymore have been identified in the 
public mind with parts that were, generally 
speaking, full of beauty and charm, and repre¬ 
sentative of the enviable and pleasant rather 
than the sordid sides of life. Miss Adams, 
who has been growing steadily since her simple, 
girlish "Rosemary" days, has reached the 
highest point in her career, as well as a place 
perilously close to the glittering upper heights 
of American theatric art, in "Peter Pan," a 
performance that is infinitely better than the 
play. And, paradoxical as it may seem, she 
has gained this height by placing herself farther 
below her audience than she ever did before. 
Enjoy the fairy-tale as we may, it is not its 
lightness and poetic quality that haunts us for 
days after, but the pathetic, lonely, elfin figure 
of Peter Pan seated alone in the tree-top, while 
the children who have accompanied her on her 
travels are safe and snug in their nursery. 

It has been said of Miss Barrymore that she 
succeeded by mere force of youth, beauty, good 
clothes, and a line of parts that made her an 
attractive figure in the eyes of the vast follow¬ 
ing of susceptible youths and maidens whose 
allegiance she divides with Miss Adams. Yet 
Miss Barrymore never rose to a really great 
height until she threw off her youth, her beauty, 
her silks and her sables, and appeared as a poor, 
ill-dressed charwoman in "The Silver Box." 
It was a performance that, to my mind, was 
remarkable chiefly for what Miss Barrymore 
did not do, rather than because of any strongly 
accentuated exhibitions of "acting" or “big 
moments," as they are termed on Broadway. 


274 


THE APPEAL OF 1HE STAGE 


As an example of simplicity and reserve force, 
it was a surprise to those who have followed 
this young player s career from her early be¬ 
ginnings with Mr. Drew; yet the fact that it 
made such a deep impression upon those who 
saw it was due primarily to the immense gulf 
that yawned between the prosperous, well- 
conditioned audience and the poor drudge, 
who was as much a victim of society as of her 
drunken and abusive husband. 

The Relation of Laughter and Tears 

The question that naturally arises is, how to 
distinguish between the appeal that will awaken 
laughter and that which will bring tears. To 
this I would reply that the two lie so perilously 
close to each other that no man can tell them 
apart with absolute certainty. That is one 
reason why the business of theatricals is so ex¬ 
citing and diverting that Mr. Frohman finds it 
impossible to give it up. An audience gener¬ 
ally knows, however, whether to laugh or to 
cry; possibly because, from its position above, 
it is able to judge with a nicety the extent of 
the misfortune or ignominy on which the ap¬ 
peal is based. 

There was a time in our history when a man 
who has since come to be known as his coun¬ 
try’s saviour kept the cartoonists and satirists 
of the world busy. But a single pistol-shot in 
Washington, a shot that was literally heard 
round the world, put a sudden stop to the jeer¬ 
ing chorus, and straightway the “furrowed 
face, gaunt, gnarled hands, and unkempt, 
bristling hair” took on a new significance — 
the deathless, world-wide pathos of martyrdom. 

The Humility of Great Ac tors 

In their public utterances, the players of an 
elder day never failed to give expression to that 
attitude toward the audience which is the very 
marrow of the actor’s art. 

“Mr. Garrick begs to announce the begin¬ 
ning of another season of comedy, and is the 
public’s most humble and obedient servant.” 

No actor of modern times has shown a deeper 
respect for his audiences than did Henry Irv¬ 
ing. This respect he evidenced by invariably 
giving them the very best art at his command, 
no matter whether he happened to be playing 
for a single night in Erie, Pennsylvania, or be¬ 
ginning a new season in New York, in the pres¬ 
ence of all the critics and the cream of metro¬ 
politan society. He never talked about “jay 
towns,” or addressed an audience from the 
standpoint of superiority because he fancied it 
to be rude or uninformed. In time the public 
learned that it was always treated with respect, 
and the patronage that it gave in return was 


the most liberal that has been extended to any 
foreign artist of our time. 

if all our actors were as intelligent and con¬ 
scientious as Mr. Irving they would cease to 
sneer at the “yaps,” as they delicately call 
those persons whose misfortune it is to live a 
hundred miles or more from Broadway, and 
realize that it is the verdict of these very 
“yaps,” far more than that of the cate-loung¬ 
ers, idle women, and score of newspaper critics 
who constitute a New York first night, that 
makes or mars the player’s reputation. If an 
actor who really desires to follow in Mr. Irving’s 
footsteps will bring himself to regard every 
audience,— no matter whether on Broadway 
or at the Tanktown Opera-house,— not as 
“yaps,” but as a collection of human hearts, 
and therefore worthy of the highest reverence, 
it will do more toward building up an enduring 
reputation for him than almost anything that 
can be named. But no actor who in his secret 
heart despises his audience and looks down upon 
it, either with open contempt or amiable toler¬ 
ance, can give that audience a really satisfying 
performance. 

Tricks of the Drama 

That old-time managers and actors of the kind 
usually denominated “fakers” fully appreci¬ 
ated the necessity for special appeals to sym¬ 
pathy and prejudice, is indicated in the many 
tricky devices, long since hardened into tradi¬ 
tions, which cling to the skirts of the drama. 
One of these is the resuscitation of Little Eva 
and Uncle Tom, and their exhibition, after the 
close of the play, in a fleecy heaven and in a 
state of beatitude that is undisturbed even by 
the warbling of the jubilee singers behind the 
scenfes. Here is a “happy ending” calculated 
to awaken the envy of any public, and I hon¬ 
estly believe that without it this time-worn 
drama would long since have passed from our 
stage. 

More subtle than this is the appeal too fre¬ 
quently made at the close of a play in which 
some daughter of sin has repented and atoned 
for her immoral life. Such a one is never 
really forgiven by the women in the audience, 
and it is necessary to send her away somewhere 
— if possible, to some fever-infested region 
where she will not live long — in order that 
these women may go home contented. The 
author who knows his business is certain to 
write in some line like this: “Good-by, kind 
Lady Coldface. I shall never forget that I owe 
everything to you ! Henceforth my work will 
lie in famine-stricken India (or in the plague 
districts of Hindustan), where I hope to devote 
my remaining years to good deeds.” 


JAMES L. FORD 


Not until they know that this once erring 
creature has been sent away somewhere, pref¬ 
erably to some undesirable spot, will the women 
in the audience yield her a grudging forgiveness 
for her sins. This trick occurs in the last act 
of “The Hypocrites/' in which the repentant 
one starts for the “fever-infested 5 ' London 
slums, and even in the novel “Helena Ritchie.'' 
It will be remembered that, in the last chapter 
of that admirable book, Helena departs from 
the village in the old stage-coach. There is no 
reason, other than the one that I have men¬ 
tioned, for her going, and the author does not 
even mention her destination; but go she must, 
as a sop to the feminine readers, who, like those 
at the play, are far more chary of forgiveness 
than of laughter or tears. 

There is no class that suffers more from the 
superior, academic attitude toward an audi¬ 
ence than those young women of high breed¬ 
ing, excellent moral character, refined tastes, 
and well-trained minds who attempt the stage 
as a profession, in numbers that are already 
greater than most persons think, and are in¬ 
creasing from year to year as the constantly 
enlarging field of feminine endeavor makes it 
more and more fashionable for a woman to gain 
her own livelihood. Their sisters and class¬ 
mates who enter the fields of literature and art 
succeed almost as well as men,— sometimes 
much better,— but she who goes upon the 
stage with the equipment that I have named, 
and perhaps carrying several pounds penalty 
in the shape of an extra course in the drama at 
Barnard or Wellesley, invariably fails. I do 
not know of a single woman of this sort who 
has really achieved any great success on our 
stage, but I do know cf scores who have sprung 
from the humblest beginnings and are now 
actresses of the highest rank. 

It is because of their wrong attitude of mind 
that these hundreds of gifted young women fail 
as they do. The girl who enters upon a literary 
or artistic career expects to be thrown in con¬ 
tact with her superiors, or at least her equals. 
Her friends and family congratulate her on the 
good fortune that may bring her into association 
with such representative men and women as 
Mr. Sargent, Mr. Howells, Mrs. Deland, Mrs. 
Wharton, and Miss Cecilia Beaux; for art and 
letters have not yet lost caste in this sordid 
country. But it is taken for granted that the 
girl who goes on the stage is lowering herself 
socially; and this point of view is especially 
virulent in small provincial towns. Her friends 
shake their heads sadly at the thought of “the 
evil associations of the theater," while ancient 
family connections come out of the mist to utter 
warning cries and relate dismal stories of young 


275 

women who have lost caste through their con¬ 
nection with the playhouse. These birds of 
ill-omen fill the minds of the mother, the grand¬ 
mother, the maiden aunt, the elder sister, and 
the lean and slippered grandsire with gloomy 
forebodings, and, since not one of them has 
ever been behind the curtain-line in a theater 
or known a single member of the theatrical 
profession, they are all prodigal with advice. 

“Remember that you're a lady!” “Don't 
forget that you come of a refined Christian 
family!" “Be careful not to associate with 
any of the girls in the company!” “Be sure 
you hold yourself above the rest of them, for 
they're probably no better than they should 
be!” 

Striving for Glory on the Stage 

It is with these cries ringing in her ears and 
these charitable precepts filling her mind that 
the young girl of liberal education enters the 
narrow door and sets foot in the drafty passage 
that she hopes will lead her to the field of glory 
and success. Ah, if she only could forget that 
she is a lady, and comes of a refined family, 
and has always moved in the best society! 
There might be some chance for her then. But 
she cannot forget it; her friends and relatives 
will not allow her to. Nor are her earlier pro¬ 
fessional experiences of a kind calculated to 
shut out from her mind the warning shouts of 
the anxious and ignorant ones that followed 
her to the very threshold of the stage-door. 

Ambitious to succeed and willing to begin at 
the very bottom, she joins a company as extra 
lady, and finds herself dressing in the same 
room with half a dozen young women who 
have not had her advantages of birth and edu¬ 
cation. They have come from the lower ranks 
of life, are unable to speak the English lan¬ 
guage with the accent demanded of good breed¬ 
ing, and are perhaps even frank to the point of 
vulgarity in their manners and speech. It 
may be that there is not a single member of 
the company, from the star down, who is not 
inferior to this novice in the matter of educa¬ 
tion, good manners, and the niceties of diction. 
The educated girl cannot help feeling herself 
above them, but if she yields to this conscious¬ 
ness it will certainly show in her acting, and it 
is not unlikely that she will allow a contempt 
for her audience to grow upon her also. Then 
she is lost beyond reclaim, and, while she is 
standing still or retrograding in the profession, 
the daughter of the village cobbler, who had 
no advantages whatever, either social or edu¬ 
cational, will very likely be advancing. For 
this one has been quick to realize her inferior¬ 
ity to her associates. To her the star seems a 



MOONRISE AT MALAGA 


276 

miracle of fine manners, and the young college- 
bred girl a marvel of learning and fashionable 
grace. Her attitude of mind is one of humility 
and imitation, and it is not surprising that on 
the stage she should unconsciously place her¬ 
self, not only beneath her associates, but be¬ 
neath the audience as well. 

There is but one remedy for the superior 
young woman. Let her learn to judge people, 
not by the education or breeding or polish that 
they owe to some one else, but to their own ca¬ 
pacity for self-sacrifice. Then let her study her 
companions from this point of view; and she will 
find that this one is supporting her mother 
from her small salary, that one helping to edu¬ 
cate her younger brother, and a third actually 
stinting herself in food and clothes for the sake 
of an invalid sister. It would be difficult to 
find any person in the poorer walks of life who 
has not made some sacrifice that should com¬ 
pel our respect; and if this college-bred young 
girl will make a point of cultivating the friend¬ 
ship of her associates, instead of remembering 
that she is a lady and suspecting that they are 
no better than they should be, it will not be 
long before her humility of mind will qualify 
her for professional advancement. 

Mistakes of the Reformers 

While I do not hold with those philosophers 
who maintain that our stage has reached to¬ 
day its lowest possible level, I cannot deny that 


it is capable of improvement. But I see no 
reason to believe that its advancement will be 
in the least degree effected by making it con¬ 
form to the standards of academic thought. 
There have been innumerable attempts to ad¬ 
vance the interests of the American stage 
through playhouses devoted to the presenta¬ 
tion of what it was thought the public ought to 
have instead of what the public really wants. 
At the moment of writing, the air is charged 
with rumors of national or endowed theaters, 
to be erected by millionaires and philanthro¬ 
pists for the development of the higher forms 
of the drama. Almost as far bacK as I can re¬ 
member, enterprises of this description have 
commanded the attention of the public, and 
now and then one has actually borne fruit in 
the shape of public performances. But not all 
of these efforts combined have given us a single 
actor or dramatist, or advanced the cause of 
good dramatic art so much as half a cubit * 
They have failed, no matter what their merits, 
because their founders have had the imperti¬ 
nence to look down upon their audience as 
children instead of looking up to them as a col¬ 
lection of human hearts worthy of all respect 
and asking only to be thrilled. 

* The Children's Educational Theater, on the New York East 
Side, is not to be included in this category. It is succeeding ad¬ 
mirably in its benevolent purpose, because it considers the tastes 
of its audiences, and presents an entertainment that is not only 
clean and instructive, but is also so interesting and pleasing that 
hundreds of eager children are frequently turned from the doors, 
unable to obtain admission. 


MOONRISE AT MALAGA 

B Y 

FLORENCE WILKINSON 


F RILLED, flat-faced heads frolicked beside our keel; 
Round thistly silvernesses shot and streamed, 

And phosphorescent finger-tips played a tune 
Of silent music on the thousand ripples — 

An orchestra of subtler lights prelusive 
To the sudden moon that burst, a creamy flower. 
Spreading its monopetalous disk above 
The quiet rim of the magnificent night. 




VERONIKA AND THE ANGELINOS 

BY 

CASPAR DAY 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY FREDERIC R. GRUGER 


V ERONIKA MESCAVAGE was by 
nature and profession a Good Girl. 
Possibly a certain white glory of 
reputation was hers rather because 
the Mescavage boys were all Bad 
Boys, and Jonas in particular a Worst Boy, than 
on account of the virtues peculiar to the part. 
Her father concealed most of his good qualities 
from the Patch; her mother was an Awful Mean 
Lady to Drink. Great wonder was it, therefore, 
that the Christian virtues rather than the mortal 
sins should find in Veronika their tabernacle. 

Vincas, the boarder, was Veronika’s great 
partisan in well-doing. Veronika was nine, and 
Vincas twenty-six, with convictions on many 
matters. 

"Here,” Vincas would say, "is five cents, be¬ 
cause you mended my shirt where the rat ate it. 
Also that you let the beer alone. A little beer is 
proper for men, but I do not believe in it for chil¬ 
dren. For, see, we shall grow like the Dagos in 
another ten years, our people, if the children 
learn drinking now. Where will the clean 
houses be found then ? Where can a man board 
in decency? Who will be left to tell the truth 
except the greenhorns from the old country? 


Who will save money? Who will deserve good 
pay? Who will have respect? Nobody, see. 
We shall fall to being like the Dagos.” 

After these discussions, it was a relief to 
Veronika to contemplate the Angelino brood 
upon the opposite side of the street, and to ob¬ 
serve that as yet the aristocratic fairness of her 
own race had not approached the russet browns 
of the Unwashed. The Angelinos kept a store 
and were decent enough for people of their 
blood; nevertheless, the Lithuanian neighbor¬ 
hood looked down upon them. To lower one¬ 
self to the Italian level was a horror not lightly 
to be contemplated. 

Veronika had something on her mind, there¬ 
fore, upon the August evening when she came 
and sat with Vincas on the bench under the 
mulberry tree. 

"I did something to-day,” she began. 

"You did?” Vincas stopped cleaning his 
pipe and looked sidewise at the thin little figure 
in brown gingham. Vincas had come home 
from work at four o’clock; and from the way 
matters had gone since then he knew that all 
the Mescavage faults were on display. " It has 
been a bad day for good girls, has it?” 


277 




278 


VERONIKA AND T n t ANGELINOS 


"Very,” the child sighed. "But that is not 
it. I have found a baby, a new one. A baby 
that needs me !” 

" Ah-h,” said Vincas. If the rapture was not 
quite within his comprehension, he was at least 
able to receive a solemn confidence with sym¬ 
pathy. He was a comfortable friend. 

"It has no hair at all, so I am rubbing lard 
into its head,” Veronika continued blissfully. 
"And dirty, dir-r-ty ! To-morrow I go down 
there and wash it; those people don’t know 
how. Anyway, the 
mother is going to 
work in the silk mill, 
so she will be busy. 

After it is cleaned, I 
shall love it! ” 

"Of course," he as¬ 
sented dutifully. "Is 
it a boy?” 

"It is six weeks old. 

I don’t know is it a 
boy or not a boy; 1 
forgot to ask them. 

But its eyes are aw¬ 
ful sore, my poor baby, 
and its neck. Could 
you give me a nickel, 

Vincas, to buy cold 
cream? And dare 1 
steal one piece of your 
tar soap to clean it? 

I shall need soap. It 
rubs dirt in its little 
black eyes; that is the 
soreness.” 

"Certainly; steal 
one piece.” 

"But I can’t bring 
it up here; that is one 
bad thing. I daresn’t. 

My mother would holler at me,” Veronika con¬ 
tinued in English. 

" I would hide it,” Vincas advised in their own 
tongue. " Keep it to surprise her when it is all 
grown up to be a man.” 

The child sighed blissfully and nestled against 
his shoulder; her boarder always gave such 
soothing counsel. 

" When I get grown up and am married with 
you I will have four twins a year,” she promised, 
"so when one set are asleep you can always be 
riding the other set up and down the street in the 
two-baby carriage.” 

" Are they to sleep on the red velvet lounge ? ” 

"Why, you said a cradle, Vincas! You said 
a little cradle with sheets! It will make more 
washing, of course; but then, I don’t mind 

that r 


"So it was,” the man agreed. "And what 
was I to have in my can when I worked day- 
shift? I forget what you said.” 

" Pie,” Veronika beamed. " Pie and a garlic. 
A whole pie !” 

"And when I work night-shift,” he prompted. 

" Herring. Or ham boiled. And sweet tea.” 

Vincas smacked his lips dutifully before he lit 
his pipe. It was a part of the regular program. 
But to-day had been such a very bad day that 
Veronika could not dwell long content in the 

i m agin ary possession 
of her household and 
four yearling twins. 
She moved restlessly 
upon the bench and 
looked about her in the 
dusk. Finally she 
wrought her vague 
trouble into words. 

"You know it is 
really a lie, Vincas,” 
said she. "All a lie. 

1 don't want you to 
feel bad about it. But 
it is not so. I — I’m 
not really going to get 
married with you — 
nor put pie in your 
dinner pail.” 

"Not?” cried Vin¬ 
cas, gently wondering. 
"Why, it was all ar¬ 
ranged. Dear, dear!” 

"Not. I am really 
going to get married 
with Adam Walukas, 
down the street here. 
Or if he gets killed in 
the mines beforehand, 
then it will be an Eng¬ 
lish boy named Gerrity. 1 promised them. 
This other, the story we tell, you and I, is just 
a lie.” 

"Let us go on telling it, though,” he sug¬ 
gested. "We always do. We like it. We al¬ 
ways tell it when we feel sad. There was the 
day I burned my hand. There was the time 
you fell -” 

"No, no. You know you have to go back to 
the old country and pay some money and get the 
farm for your father, as soon as your bad 
brother finishes dying. That is one really true 
thing. And I have to get married with Adam 
and Aloysius in America. Another really true 
thing. We just say the other. 11 is — it is like 
Santy Claus, and Jesus-in-the-Barn that they 
put in Church. It is not true all the year, I 
mean; just once in a great while.” 



' »» l I MOTH IK WAS AN AWfUL MEAN 
LADY TO UltlNK " 















"Maybe,” Vincas agreed. "All right; never 
mind about that. But how many dresses has 
your new-found baby got?” 

"None. None at all. Just pieces of rag.” 

"All the easier to wash, then. Whose is it? 
Anybody near here?” 

Veronika got to her knees and whispered in 
his ear. 

"Its mother has come to stay at Angelino’s. 
She is Dago.” 

Vincas whistled. "A Dago baby?” 

"It’s not! It's a nice baby, a dear baby! 
I'll wash it, I tell you, and it's too little and new 
to be Dago yet. It's just like any baby, only 
the sore eyes. It might grow yellow hair, if I 
keep it very clean. And I'll teach it our lan¬ 
guage every day when nobody is listening.” 

Vincas argued and dissuaded. Finally he 
yielded. 

"Very good. But I am afraid it will turn out 
Dago in spite of you. Soap is not everything — 
But mind you, do not bring it home with you. 
And do not go over to the Dago's house nights, 
no matter if the baby cries: only daytimes, re¬ 
member, when your ma isn’t looking. She’d 
raise hell. I’d ought to tell her on you, but I 
won’t.” 

For three weeks all went well. Day by day 
Veronika hurried through her housework before 
she fled to her new charge; there were no babies 
at home to need attention, and Mrs. Mescavage 
cared too little for her daughter’s society to de¬ 


tain the child indoors unless there was work for 
her to do. 

Many and many a doting confidence was given 
to Vincas during this happy period. Thus, the 
baby was a boy. He was not pink and white yet, 
like a normal Lithuish infant, but his tints im¬ 
proved. The Angelinos were horrified at so 
much washing of a baby. The Angelinos would 
not believe, at first, that Veronika had brought 
up six Lithuish babies to the walking-stage; only 
when they had made inquiries and looked at 
samples did they grant her professional claims. 
Shortly the Angelinos made three garments for 
Nico, which had a definite architecture of their 
own and could by no means be transmuted into 
salt-bags or handkerchiefs or floor-mops or 
window-pame corks upon impulse; that Day of 
the First Shirt was a great day. Then the 
Angelinos themselves admitted that the sore 
eyes were growing healthier under the caustic 
regime of tar soap and clean clothing. Then 
the Angelinos themselves admitted that the baby 
loved Veronika better than its own mother. 

A dreadful week befell when Mrs. Mescavage 
burned her foot and in consequence dedicated 
her leisure to pails of beer and balls of carpet- 
rags. Veronika could not slip away from the 
house for days; she was in attendance upon the 
invalid from dawn till nearly midnight. Vincas 
saw and understood the growing anguish in her 
eyes. On the evening of the sixth day he called 
her into the shed. 


279 






























































280 


VERONIKA AND THE ANGELINOS 


“It's been a-cryin' for you some/' he said. 
" But that don't hurt a baby. The Dagos is 
takin’ good care of it. I went over; I looked 
well at all they did. I never went in a Dago 
house before: they are dirty. Well, it was all 
right till to-day. Now it is a little sick. I 
frightened them on purpose, saying the boy 
would die; so they sent for the doctor. To¬ 
night he comes. To-morrow I guess I can make 
a plan with your mother to let you play all day 
up and down the streets." 

A little diplomacy, accordingly, left Veronika 
free after the bread was baked and the morn¬ 
ing's work done. She dashed away, lightfooted, 
blissful. She came into the Angelinos' kitchen 
in the nick of time. The story of her day was 
given to Vincas after dark. 

" My baby was sick, so sick ! That doctor 
you made them get, Vincas, was only a death- 
maker for Dagos. He says, ‘Get a plaster.' 
They go to the drug-store and buy what he tells 
them. The plaster has English reading on it, 
but Mrs. Angelino can never read anything. It 
is a plaster with little holes in it and a cloth over 
the sticky side; you know, the kind that is good 
after you fall down cellar. Well! They pull 
off the cloth and soften the plaster with hot 
water and cut off little, little pieces. Then they 
make the baby eat them, those pieces, and half 
a banana. Oh, what a terrible time did I have 
choking those things out of my baby !" 


“An’ then I bet they was mad against you," 
commented the man. 

"Naturally. They said I wasted their 
twenty-five cents that they paid for it. 
I said if they tried it again I would go for the 
policeman. Finally we all ran out the back 
gate and over to the drug-store; 1 carried the 
baby, and the Dago kids ran all around me, and 
the Angelino woman was yelling and holding out 
the plaster. My nose was bleeding, and her 
thumb that I had to bite. But the drug-store 
man said the baby would have died unless I got 
the plaster out. So I had satisfaction over 
her." 

"Was the baby sick afterwards?" 

"Oh, yes! Then we went back to the house 
again, she and I. And what do you think? I 
scolded them for being ignorant, and called them 
Dagos. They got angry and called me a Polan- 
der. Then I swore, and they swore, and we all 
talked at once and said we were not any such a 
thing — oh, a terrible time ! But in the end we 
cried because we thought the baby would die, 
and became very good friends. I stayed there 
all day. She gave me a banana for my dinner, 
and tried to make all her children treat me with 
respect and get out from under my feet when I 
walked up and down with the baby." 

The two days following the porous plaster 
incident went blissfully well. The third morn¬ 
ing plunged the Mescavage family in a social 



“‘but the drug-store 


MAH SAID THE BABY WOULD HAVE DIED* 















“ 1 GIVE US THE PAIL'" 


abyss; and the vessel of wrath appointed for 
the defilement of their caste was Mrs. Angelino. 

Veronika was sent at ten o’clock to buy a 
quart of molasses. At the gate she encountered 
Jonas, coming home early from the mine with a 
temper blacker than his face. 

“Whatcher got, kid?” he demanded. 

Veronika dodged, but Jonas caught her a 
smart blow on the side of the head. He en¬ 
forced a profane inquiry with a shaking, and 
punctuated it with slaps. 

“Ma sends me fur molasses,” the child ad¬ 
mitted finally. 

“Aw, cry, now ! I’ll molasses ye, ye big cry¬ 
baby ! Give us the pail. An’I want that there 
fifteen cents. Hand it over! Shut up yer 
squawkin’. I didn’t neither break yer wrist! ” 

The fifteen cents was unfortunately a quarter. 
Jonas took it and marched across the street. 
Veronika, weeping, crept back into the kitchen; 
experience had taught her that an accessory be¬ 
fore the fact receives no mercy from either the 
capitalist or the embezzler. 

“Well,” demanded Mrs. Mescavage, “what 
have you done now, Rat-Eyes? Lost my 
money? Lost my pail? Lost my molasses?” 
Each domestic reverse, as she enumerated a 
list, was marked by the broomstick. “Tell it 
out, fool. A curse take my girls, anyway ! My 


boys are worth ten of you. Well, liar, are you 
going to tell me what 1 ask?” 

“Jonas took it. He took it off me, mother. 
He did, honest! ” 

“Shut that mouth! You should have been 
smart and told him I sent for five cents’ worth 
of beer. He’d have taken five cents and stopped 
at that. It’s your fault. I’ll serve you. 
Down cellar you go, where the rats will eat 
you !” 

With Veronika out of the way, Mrs. Mescav¬ 
age waited ten minutes; then, anger outgrowing 
her inertia, she slammed the house-door and 
started down the street to look for Jonas. 

Things were lively on Angelino’s corner. All 
the children of the district were ranged about a 
noisy central group of Italians. Upon the high 
porch, Luigi Angelino stood with two women, 
both screaming and talking at once. An Italian 
baker had stopped his wagon at the curb; by his 
signs and gestures the beholders knew that he 
was offering the vehicle as a police van. Rafael 
Angelino himself, a squat man in a wide felt hat, 
was dragging a youth down the high steps from 
his store. 

Concetta, Rafael’s wife, hung upon the steam¬ 
ship signboard in a horrid plight. Her face was 
bruised, her long hair unpinned and straggling. 
Her hands, freshly incarnadined each time she 

281 






































































282 


VERONIKA AND THE ANGEL 1 NOS 


drew them from before her nose, accused Rafael's 
prisoner. All the Angelinos were in a most un- 
angelic temper. Only as Mrs. Mescavage reached 
the inner ring of spectators did the captive 
youth identify himself to her apprehension. 

“Steala cigarettis, Missis,” explained Rafael. 
His tone was businesslike. “Me, 1 don’ tinka 
not’an; go down my cellair. My ol’ ’oman 
t’inka ver’ bada boy. She say, ‘Her-r-re, you 
to not steal dose t’ingsouta store!' Boy, he not 
say back; he hitta oY 'oman, brrreaka ta noses 
— knocks down floor. Now I getta heem 
'rrested !” 

As one man the Angelinos grinned their 
venomous glee. There was no doubt that their 
souls were set upon revenge. Luigi picked up 
the dinner can Jonas had dropped on the steps 
and removed its lid. Underneath were pack¬ 
ages of cigarettes and tobacco. 

“ I let him get outside the store before I seized 
him. The law is stronger that way,” cried 
Rafael to his family in Italian. 

“Son, son, you put shame on us this day!” 
screamed Mrs. Mescavage, talking Lithuish. 
“To steal and get caught! To get caught by 
Dagos! Oi, Oi! Now what are we going to 
do?” 

“Pay her money. Then her nose will stop 
bleeding,” suggested the culprit. 

“Talk Ingliss,” Rafael ordered. 

“I have none I can spare; only two months' 
rent, twelve dollars. And that must be saved 
for the house-boss.” 

“Pay that, then, for- ” 

“Ingliss! Ingliss!” vociferated the Angelic 
chorus in a breath. 

“-for I am scared to go to jail. The 

police have another thing against me. Who 
knows what they will remember when they have 
a good look in my face?” 

“You coma jail first. Talk Ingliss after. 
That talk no good for me !” 

There was a short, sharp struggle on the side¬ 
walk. When it ceased, the storekeeper sat 
astride the guilty Jonas. 

“Now!” he announced. “You talka you 
Polandra way, me punch dese 'Merican my Dago 
way !” He illustrated. 

Jonas Mescavage had not the temper for a 
losing fight. He wept. He begged for mercv. 
He promised money, friendship, patronage — 
all in English. His mother fell to her knees. 

“Quit that, ma. Give 'er the money ! ” 

Mrs. Mescavage heard; but so, alas, did the 
Angelinos. They held trumps and knew it; 
and like Pharaoh in a similar case, their hearts 
were hardened. 

“Twenty dollars is nice to us, brother? ” sug¬ 
gested Luigi in their private tongue. 


“Forty,” said the baker. 

“Revenge is nicer to me,” confessed the san¬ 
guinary Mrs. Angelino. The signboard upon 
which she leaned bore streaks of scarlet now. 
“Cut off one ear for me while you have him 
down. That is better than fifty dollars. I am 
your woman.” 

Freddie Tardello on the outskirts of the crowd 
began to scream with fright. English was his 
most familiar tongue, so that his terror trans¬ 
lated itself: “ Don’t cut his ears off ! Oh, oh !” 

It was enough. Jonas' mother, with a wild 
cry, hurled herself beside Rafael on the sidewalk. 
She tore from inside her dress a knotted hand¬ 
kerchief and threw it to the Italian, reiterating 
monotonously, “Good Mister! Good Dago 
Mister!” 

“Money!” cried Luigi. “How much?” 

“Twelve dollars,” replied the husband. 

“Twelve dollars is too little. I want re¬ 
venge.” 

The staccato words told nothing to the Lith¬ 
uanian woman, but the tone said much. All 
the mother-passion of her heart rose in one 
mighty surge to save her best-loved boy. She 
sprang to her feet, facing the angry Italians on 
the high porch. Tears rained down her cheeks, 
her outstretched palms begged for mercy. As a 
suppliant she mounted the steps on her knees 
and crawled upon the dirty boards. Then, in a 
silence more awful than clamor, she drew herself 
forward and kissed her enemy's feet. 

“Mine God! Oh, mine God!” cried some¬ 
body. The Lithuanians in the crowd turned 
and slipped to their houses, speechless; that 
degradation was too horrible for comment. But 
Mrs. Mescavage stayed, brazening out the 
shame, not ceasing her caresses. “ Nice missis ! 
Good missis! Please, good missis, you no kill 
my boy !” 

The Italian woman took her triumph to full 
measure. Finally she drew back coolly and 
shoved the petitioner with one thick, grimy 
foot. 

“Vengeance is what I need. Twelve dollars 
is so little. Rafael, take the pup to jail.” 

A heart-broken cry came from the roadway. 
Veronika, in her brown gingham, flew up the 
steps and dashed herself into the central place. 
She snatched her mother’s head from the dusty 
planks. She cradled it upon her knees, embrac¬ 
ing it with meager, loyal arms; but her chin was 
high, and her eyes challenged them through 
tears. “Don’t you do that, Concetta!” she 
cried. “She ain’t none of your people for you 
to do them things to ! Don’t you shove her. 
Don’t you darst! ” 

“Behold, the nursing child of our baby!” 
exclaimed Rafael from his couch on Jonas’ ribs. 


| 





'angelino dragging a youth down the high steps of his store 


There followed a pause. Then Luigi laughed 
awkwardly; for the baby was his own. 

“ It is her mother, her own blood,” spoke the 
neighbor woman, in Italian. 

“She kept Maria’s baby alive: yes. But her 
brother smashed my nose: yes.” 

“It pays,” Rafael pronounced. “It just 
pays.” 

“ Then take him to prison for stealing ! ” Con- 
cetta finished. 

Luigi objected. “You forget the twelve 
dollars. The good girl has paid for the bad 
boy; we are her friends, and we call that a 
settled score. But why will not the twelve 
dollars pay for the cigarettes, sister, if the child 
has made peace already for your blood? Is it 
enough, eh?” 

“It is enough,” pronounced the baker. “She 
is your friend.” 

“ Enough,” said Rafael and the neighbors. 

“Enough,” Concetta echoed. She threw out 
her hands in a sweeping gesture. “Let him go 
free. Only send them away out of my sight. 
I feel sick when I forgive anything. I wanted 
revenge.” 

Gloom deep and dreadful reigned in the house 
that night. Mrs. Mescavage had sat indoors, 


silent, brooding, waiting for callers who did not 
come. Father Mescavage had left the premises 
in a rage, stating that his absence might last a 
lifetime. Jonas had taken a week's vacation to 
go fishing. Joszef was spending his evening in 
a pleasanter place than home. Agati and Annie 
were at the silk mill working overtime. Vero¬ 
nika sat on a box by the coal-shed, weeping in 
the dark. There Vincas found her. 

“ I don't never darst go any place again,” she 
sobbed in answer to his questions. “Folks is 
awful. I been fightin’ two girls a'ready — an’ 

now — I’m -— tired-" 

“You will be rested to-morrow,” Vincas sug¬ 
gested. “And by the day after to-morrow they 
will forget and let you alone.” 

“ I don’t suppose I can never go near my baby 
again, neither; ma has found out about it now, 
an’ the Dagos is all mad at us. An’ I was jus’ 
gettin’ him so nice a’ready,— so fat,— an’ 
awful lovely ! He’d ’a’ been dead by this time, 
too, if I hadn’t seed to him. Doctor said so.” 

“The Dagos ain’t mad with you. That’s why 
they let Johnny off, the most reason. ’Twasn’t 
no money so much, nor — nor what your ma 
done. ’Twas on account o’ youse tendin’ the 
baby.” 

=83 























284 VERONIKA AND 

“ I can't never - hold 'im no more again,” 
sobbed Veronika. “They won’t keep 'im 
clean — nor nothin'! An' I'd just learnt him 
talk some Lithuish yesterday. Oh, oh !” 

Vincas waited beside the shaken little figure 
with a hand on her hair. 

“ It’s so awful,” she groaned. “Jonas is gone 
off; he won't be workin’. Pa’s gone off; he 
won’t be workin’. Annie and Agati will be that 
mad when they find out, that they won’t give ma 
no pay neither. There's just Joszef left; he 
don’t make but a dollar-ten a day, even if he 
works steady. An’ ma — she’ll be drunk all 
the time.” 

“Oh, no; she can’t,” consoled the boarder. 
“She gave them Angelinos all her money. She 
won’t drink. I’ll tell Baroff’s not to give her 
nothin' 'less she pays the money down. Will 
I?” 

“An' then there's me! I’ll be a-fightin’ all 
times; an’ I don’t say 1 like much to fight. 
Some does, but I don’t. Then I'll be a-swearin’ 
all times; an’that’s a sin, to swear. An’I don’t 
like my ma no more. That ain't no good for me, 
is it? To be ashamed over my ma?” 

As if to emphasize the cruelty of Veronika's 
position, a procession of children came up the 
street chanting: 

Mis-sis Mescavage, 

There she goes, 

I seen her crawlin' 

On her nose 
To kiss the Dago’s 
Dirty toes ! 

“Aloysius, he made up that song!” cried 
Veronika in a burst of woe. “He's an awful 
smart boy. But he says I can’t marry him, not 
no more. The nasty of thing, I don't want to ! 
But oh, Vincas, Vincas, the world is black, be¬ 
cause I am ashamed of my mother ! Why did 
she do that thing?” 

The man stroked her hair as he replied in the 
old tongue: 

“She had a good reason. Suppose — sup¬ 
pose your baby was to be put in jail by some 
cross old policeman ; would you give him money 
to save the baby?” 

“Yes, yes. Only I never have money, except 
a five cents.” 

“Would you kiss the policeman, if you had to ? 
Think hard !” 

“Yes, of course,” cried the foster-mother. 
“Or fight him. Or tear him with scratches. 
Or maybe I could go to jail myself instead.” 


THE ANGELI NOS 

“See, then,” spoke the counsellor gently. 
“You would not be ashamed if it was for your 
baby. Now that is the way your mother felt. 
Consider: Jonas is her baby, the baby she likes 
best, even if he is a bad boy. So she did it for 
Jonas. Even to kiss a Dago was not too much, 
when it was to save Jonas out of prison. Look 
at the affair that way. There is not so much to 
be ashamed of, is there?” 

A boy's treble rose shrilly in the street. 
“That’s Adam,” Veronika moaned. The faith¬ 
less fiance proceeded with the insulting solo: 

The Dago kicked her 
In the snout ; 

Says she ; “ Go on, 

I’ll chase ye out!” 

“ I can’t marry Adam Walukas neither, can I ? 
Nor I can’t lick him, 'cause he's bigger than me. 
Oh, 1 shall stay always in this house, an' listen 
to what folks says about my mother! HI get 
ashamed that I am called Mescavage, after a 
while! ” 

“Nonsense,” spoke Vincas. He lifted her by 
the shoulders and took her bodily to their old 
seat under the mulberry tree. “Put two gray 
hairs in your braid every time you comb your 
hair, then you will grow up in a hurry, and you 
can get married to me, and your name will not 
be Mescavage any longer. You can go away to 
Oklahoma with me if you like. And the four 
twins will all be fat, beautiful babies, two of 
the kind that sleep all day, and two of the 
kind that sleep all night. Thus they need 
only two clean dresses and two pairs of shoes, 
because-” 

“Oh, Vincas, I want four pairs of shoes! 
You are rich. And you know you said 

“Very good; four. And they shall have gray 
eyes and curly yellow hair as long as your finger, 
and no Dago will ever come near them to give 
them sores.” 

“Oh, I shall love them !” Veronika smiled in 
ecstasy through her tears. Then she faltered, 
her passionate little mother-soul shaken by an 
emotion more complex. 

“Of course I shall always love them best” she 
promised. “But I would like to keep my Dago 
baby, too, if you can manage it. When a baby 
is sick, and has no hair and sore eyes, and such 
things, see — you — ” she dropped into English 
desperately — -“you can't give it up for nobody ! 
You kinda love it more. Can’t you verstand 
that?” 






WILD HORSES 

BY 

WILL C. BARNES 

ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS 


T HE following clippings, sent out last Febru¬ 
ary by the Associated Press, were copied 
by nearly every newspaper in the United States: 

Reno, Nev., Feb. iq. —A campaign to exterminate 
the wild horses in the Toyabe, Toquima, and Mom- 
to forest reserves in Lander County has been started, 
and it is believed that more than fifteen thousand 
wild horses now grazing on those reserves will be 
slaughtered before another year has passed. 

The forest rangers report that there are more than 
i 5,000 wild horses on these ranges and that they are 
attracting many domestic animals to the district. 
These horses destroy the vegetation and do much 
harm to the entire district, consequently a war of ex¬ 
termination will be waged against them. 

Reno, Nev., Feb. iq. —The forestry department at 
Washington has ordered the rangers to kill all wild 
horses on the government domain. There are about 
15,000. They are doing much damage to vegetation 
and attracting domestic animals to their herds. 

That these notices were widely read was 
proved by the flood of letters that at once began 
to pour into the office of the Forestry Depart¬ 
ment in Washington. They came from east, 
west, north, and south; from Boston and Okla¬ 
homa, New York City and Albuquerque, Phila¬ 
delphia and Seattle. One tender-hearted indi¬ 
vidual called it an outrage “to kill so valuable 
an animal as a horse when it could be used for 
the benefit of mankind.” 

A firm of hide dealers wrote asking to be given 
a contract for the sole handling of the hides 
taken from the slaughtered horses. A large 
manufacturing company wanted to purchase 
all the hides, for use in making certain kinds of 
leather goods. Another firm inquired if the 
animals were to be killed at some central point; 
if so, could they not arrange to utilize the flesh 
of the animals for canning purposes? 

The Forestry Department Besieged by 
Horse-Catchers 

Dozens of men wrote offering to go to Nevada 
and capture the animals if the Government 
would pay their fare out and give them the 


horses in return for their work. One man 
wrote from Texas, “ If the men who issued that 
order knew anything about the nature and 
habits of the Western mustang, they would 
know that it is a very easy matter to capture 
them. If the Government will employ me at a 
salary of $100 per month, I will agree to gather 
them all in three months.” 

An excited individual from New York City 
declared with a confidence born of conviction, 
“ I have a very simple system by which I can 
capture every wild horse in Nevada in a short 
time. If the Government will contract with 
me, I will enter into an agreement to gather and 
deliver them to the Government's representa¬ 
tives as rapidly as possible at the agreed price 
of seven dollars a head.” 

Another group of correspondents, mostly 
Eastern lads with a desire for adventure, wrote 
to obtain employment as “horse killers,” an¬ 
nouncing themselves as dead shots with a rifle 
and expert hunters of game. 

A member of the Humane Society demanded 
that a more humane method than shooting be 
employed. 

The Forest officers got boundless amusement 
from these letters. They were all Western men 
who had lived for years on the open range. 
They knew from actual experience that these 
men, with their plans of capture and their cer¬ 
tainty of success, knew absolutely nothing, or 
at best very little, of the subject on which they 
wrote. And so, while audibly chuckling over 
the matter, they dictated with all due official 
punctiliousness, letters in reply similar to the 
following: 

Sir:—Your letter of-is received. No orders 

have been issued bv the Forest Service for kill¬ 
ing wild horses upon any of the National Forests. 
The report originated in an unwarranted press des¬ 
patch given out through the newspapers of the coun¬ 
try. 

Of course there was a starting point for the 
despatch, and the story is about like this: 


286 


WILD HORSES 


Some years ago the wild horses in the State of 
Nevada had become such a nuisance and men¬ 
ace to the range and stock interests that the 
State Legislature, at the request of the Stock 
Association, passed a law allowing the killing of 
wild, unbranded horses upon the ranges of that 
State. Within a year or two some 15,000 
horses, good, bad, and indifferent, had been 
shot, and their hides, manes, and tails had 
been taken by the hunters in payment for their 
work. 

As the supply became smaller the hunters 
grew careless as to whether or not the horses 
that they shot were branded. Often carcasses 
of horses were found minus hide, mane, and 
tail, but with feet shod all around, showing 
them to be hardly in the wild horse class. An 
inspection of horse hides that had been pur¬ 
chased from the hunters and were in the hands 
of hide dealers showed that a large percentage of 
the hides bore well-known brands belonging to 
stockmen all over the State. The farmers 
came to be afraid to turn out old “ Dobbin ” for 
a Sunday run on the plains about their ranches, 
lest some skulking hide-hunter pot him in a 
lonely ravine or canon where he had driven him 
for slaughter. 

So it came to pass that the stockfflen had, in 
self-defence, to ask the Legislature to repeal 
the law, and within a few years the wild horses 
have rapidly increased until again they are a 
pest. 

Last December the stockmen of Nevada met 
at Austin and among other things adopted a 
resolution asking the next State Legislature to 
pass a law giving an exclusive right to the 
Rangers of the United States Forest Service to 
shoot all wild horses found at large after a cer¬ 
tain date. The intention was to allow the own¬ 
ers of horses a reasonable time to get their stock 
out of the way, and then have the Rangers 
shoot the rest. 

Two months after the resolution was passed 
some wide-awake newspaper correspondent 
learned of it for the first time, and turned it 
loose on an unsuspecting public as something 
“right off the bat” in the way of news. 

Spanish Explorers Bring the First 
Mustangs 

The first horses of the Western plains were 
probably brought there by the Spaniards. In 
1545, almost fifty years before Jamestown was 
settled, Coronado, the Spanish captain, was 
roaming about the plains of New Mexico; and 
he tells of the dogs used by the Indians to 
haul their plunder on lodge poles, indicating 
that they had no horses at that date. 

In 1716 the Spanish again worked their way 


eastward across the plains, and their letters tell 
of the astonishment of the Indians at seeing the 
horses they had with them. The expedition 
was constantly losing horses, and there is little 
doubt that the first droves of Western horses 
originated from these strays. 

Captain Pike, who toiled bravely up the Ar¬ 
kansas river across what are now parts of Okla- 
homa, Kansas, and Colorado, tells of the im¬ 
mense bands of horses that they saw on every 
side. This was in 1806, and earlier travellers 
than he write of them also. 

In the early days upon the plains they were 
as great a pest to travelers as they are to¬ 
day. Woe be unto the luckless camper who 
allowed a band of wild horses to get close 
enough to his gentle horses, turned out for the 
night, to sweep them off. It was almost useless 
to follow, for the call of the wild comes to the 
gentlest of horses when he is thrown with a 
band of his kind that have been born and raised 
free of all restraint. It is a well-known fact 
that the hardest one to “cut out,” the leader of 
them all in a mad race across the prairie, is the 
old, gentle, well-broken saddle or work horse, 
once he gets a taste of such freedom. 

“Creasing” a Wild Horse 

In those days various methods of capturing 
the wild horse were followed. Men made it a 
regular business, and were called “ mustangers.” 
“Creasing” was one of their devices. This con¬ 
sisted in shooting a bullet so that it struck the 
animal on the top of the neck just in front of 
the withers and about an inch or so deep, close 
to the spinal column. The shock temporarily 
stunned the horse, and the hunter ran up and 
tied the animal’s feet together before he recov¬ 
ered. A rope halter was slipped on his head; a 
gentle horse, or sometimes a work ox, was led 
up alongside the prostrate beast; and he was 
securely necked up to the gentle animal, and 
thus could be handled easily. 

Old mustangers say, however, that for one 
horse caught this way fifty were killed, and that 
as a matter of fact the method was not used 
very much except in an emergency, when a 
hunter, after days of attempts to capture, fi¬ 
nally took the risk of successfully creasing an 
unusually fine animal rather than see him es¬ 
cape altogether. 

One of the best cow ponies I ever owned 1 
bought from a mustanger who had creased him 
on the plains east of the Pecos river in New 
Mexico. There was a hole in his neck fully two 
inches deep and wide, where the ball from the 
heavy buffalo gun had ploughed its way through 
the flesh just high enough above the spine not 
to kill and low enough to stun effectually 




Rounding up a Band at its Watering- 
Place 

The mustangers generally used a longer but 
safer method of capture. The average range 
horse waters not oftener than once every 
twenty-four hours, frequently at much longer 
intervals, and, unless disturbed, always at the 
same place. 

The mustangers, mounted on their best 
horses, without saddles, and stripped of all extra 
weight in clothing, would patiently watch a 
bunch of horses come to water for several days, 
noting the direction from which they came and 
spotting the animals in the bunch that they 
considered most desirable. 

Having satisfied themselves on these points, 
the men, usually three in number, divided up. 
One remained close to the water, while the 
others went out some miles in the direction usu¬ 
ally taken by the horses upon leaving the water 
hole. There they separated, each getting on 
top of some hill or elevation where he could see 
the country about him. 

The horses, having drunk all they want, file 


slowly out along the trail, full to bursting, and in 
no condition for a hard run. Having allowed 
them to get well started along the trail, the mus- 
tanger rides out behind them in full view. The 
wary animals, quick to note a moving object, 
stop for an instant; the leader turns, neighs 
shrilly, races down the line of gazing heads to 
the rear of the column, circles about, and the 
whole band with one impulse are off in a thun¬ 
dering crowd, fairly hidden in the dust they raise. 

The mustanger falls in behind them, his ex¬ 
cited horse, trained to such work, straining at 
the bit and eager to overtake the flying animals 
ahead. 

One often reads stories of Western life where 
the hero, mounted on his pet horse, carrying a 
fifty-pound saddle and a full outfit of rope, six- 
shooter, etc., dashes right into a band of wild 
horses and ropes a coal-black stallion, which he 
leads home in triumph to his ranch. 

Such things may have been done somewhere, 
but I have never seen it in my twenty-eight 
years of cowboy experience. One must remem¬ 
ber that while the wild horses are running free 
and unhampered, with fear adding wings to 

• 287 







288 


WILD HORSES 




their flight, the horse following is carrying his 
rider and has not the incentive of the horse 
ahead. 

Now, every horse, in running, has to stop 
after the first burst of speed for his second wind; 
the plan of the mustanger is to keep the drove 
going and prevent any slackening of speed. As 
soon as the horse of the first mustanger begins 
to show signs of distress, the second mustanger, 
who has watched the race from his point of ob- 


The band swings aside and sweeps around in 
a broad curve, as the third man, riding out to 
one side, turns them slowly. Finally they 
double back upon the other two riders, and 
by this time the horses in the band begin to 
show their weariness, and their speed slackens 
very perceptibly. 

Cutting Out and Roping the Mustangs 

The three mustangers have ridden without 



servation, falls in behind the band and on his 
fresh animal keeps up the pace. 

Logy with water, the wild horses ahead begin 
to slacken up a bit. Perhaps a very young colt 
falls behind, whinnying pitifully as his dam 
crowds forward from the nameless terror be¬ 
hind. 

With manes and tails streaming in the wind, 
dripping with sweat and covered with lather, 
the clouds of dust sometimes completely hiding 
them from view, they plunge ahead until out 
from a hill or from behind a sheltering tree or 
rock tears the third mustanger on his fresh 
horse. 


saddles and carried their reatas in their hands, 
with the end fastened securely about the neck 
of the horse they ride, just tight enough not to 
slip over its head. Around his waist each man 
carries a couple of hogging ropes, pieces of soft, 
light rope about six feet long. 

Crowding close in upon the band, which is by 
this time greatly distressed, each rider picks out 
the horse he wants and works along beside it; 
and as it is a very short throw, the roping is 
an easy matter. A quick jerk draws the noose 
up about the captive’s neck; the bight of the 
rope is thrown over the horse’s withers and 
down so that his front feet step over it. At 





WILL C. 

this instant the riding horse is swung suddenly 
at right angles to the other animal, and when 
the rope tightens, the wild animal's front feet 
are jerked out from under him with a whirl that 
lands him stunned and breathless in a heap, 
generally with his head buried under his body. 
When the handling is done in this way, the 
strain on the neck of the ridden horse is very 
slight, but if the wild horse regains his feet, as 
he sometimes does, the poor saddle-horse gets a 


BARNES 289 

is quickly gathered up, and with good luck a 
second animal is soon tied down. 

After the capture the mustangers generally 
sit down for a smoke, while their tired horses 
get a rest and a roll. With the catching of the 
horses the fun is ended, and the real work be¬ 
gins. 

If it is not too far from camp or too late in 
the day, a man goes back and returns with 
several gentle saddle-horses, or, what is far 



pretty rough deal before the animal is finally 
thrown and tied. 

The instant the wild horse hits the ground, the 
mustanger drops off his mount and races to the 
fallen animal, untying his hogging rope as he 
runs. A loop is made about both front feet, 
and they are pulled back far enough to enable 
the hind foot to be bunched with the two front 
ones; the hog rope is whirled three or four 
times about the three legs just at the ankles; 
and with a deft tie, the horse is secure. If 
nothing goes wrong, all this is often accom¬ 
plished inside of two minutes from the first 
throw, and if the drove is still in sight, the reata 


better, a bunch of burros. To these gentle ani¬ 
mals each wild horse is securely ‘'necked” and 
his feet are then untied. After half an hour 
of struggling and fighting, he will usually give 
up and let himself be dragged along by his 
mate to camp. 

If, however, it is too late to go to camp, the 
horse is hoppled (hobbled) and left over night. 
To leave him tied down would not do, for the 
tight tying stops the circulation, and in his 
thrashing about trying to get up, an animal left 
tied down will very soon kill himself. 

The rest is a matter of education and work — 
work for the man—work for the horse. A 









large percentage of the animals die under the 
breaking process; many are killed accidentally; 
some cut themselves with ropes so that they 
cannot be handled and have to be turned loose. 
Probably not over fifty per cent of the horses 
caught are finally broken and domesticated. 

Corralling a Drove of Wild Horses 

Often the mustangers, instead of catching the 
horses out on the prairie, continued the following 
of the animals for a whole day and often several 
days. They followed them constantly, never 
giving them an opportunity to eat, water, or 
rest. Moonlight nights were selected for this 
work, and night and day the hunters kept up 
the gait, until finally the poor animals, tired and 
hungry, could be driven almost anywhere the 
men wanted to take them. Right at the corral 
gate, however, they were likely to make a break 
and scatter like partridges. 

I myself once followed a band for twenty 
hours with three men. Just at daybreak we 
worked the bunch up to a corral. Although we 
had been driving them for several hours almost 
as easily as old saddle-horses, they balked at 
290 


the corral gate and force them in we could 
not. 

For over two hours we held them, hoping 
that they would work their way through the 
gate. Finally we crowded them too closely, 
and the leader, an old gray mare, broke past us, 
the rest following her like sheep. In vain we 
tried to stop them; one man was run over and 
his horse knocked flat by an animal he tried to 
head off. As they scattered over the prairie, 
two of us, by a desperate spurt, managed to get 
alongside horses and rope them. The rest escaped 
through a piece of very thick cedar country and 
were lost to us, for our saddle-horses were too 
tired to make a new run, and we had neither 
eaten nor drunk since we started. Result- 
four tired, hungry men and their saddle-horses, 
and two raw broncos, one of which we crippled 
so badly in throwing that we had to shoot him. 

Of course some one asks, "Why didn't you 
keep on after them and get the whole band to¬ 
gether again ?° 

Horses at $1.25 a Head 

In the first place because, up to the last few 








WILL C. BARNES 


years, the horses were not worth much when 
you did get them. The mares were not sale¬ 
able at any price, and the only marketable ones 
in the bunch were the males. These, consider¬ 
ing the work of capturing, the cost in time and 
labor of breaking them, the large percentage 
that were killed or died under the handling they 
got, did not sell for enough to pay men to devote 
themselves to it as a business. 

Of course, there were on the plains of Texas 
and New Mexico a great many professional mus- 
tangers who followed it for a living; but they 
kept at it as much for the excitement of the 
work as any thing else, and besides they fre¬ 
quently captured gentle horses that had been 
carried off by the wild bands, for which they 
received substantial rewards. 

But in the mountain country, especially 
through the Rocky Mountain States, where 
there were hundreds of square miles of cedar, 
piiion, and juniper, in which the horses would 
hide with all the cunning of hunted animals, 
previous experience went for nothing when it 
came to catching them. 

Probably no district had more wild horses on 


291 

the ranges than northern Arizona in the years 
from 1896 to 1900. When the stockmen first 
went there in 1878 and '8o there were no wild 
horses on the ranges. But it was a fine horse¬ 
raising country, and every one brought in a few 
mares. Turned out on the ranges to breed and 
multiply, they roamed where they pleased, gen¬ 
erally keeping pretty close to the ranch of their 
owner. 

Occasionally a young stallion, whipped out of 
the bunch by an older horse, would ‘‘cut out 1 ' 
some young mare for company, and eventually 
they would work back into the rough country, 
watering at some watering hole, hardly seeing a 
human being for months; and finally you had 
the nucleus of a wild bunch. 

Inside of five or six years we began to realize 
that we had a serious problem to meet; by 1894 
the wild horses could be numbered by the tens 
of thousands. It was at a time, too, when 
horses were a drug on the market. A good, 
well-broken cow-pony was not worth over 
twenty dollars, and a raw bronco was sold for 
almost any sum one chose to offer. 

If they were shipped, the railroads made the 








owner prepay the freight, lest the commission 
man at Kansas City or Chicago refuse to receive 
them. Several carloads of fine geldings once 
shipped from our station only netted the “pool 
outfit" that gathered them a dollar and a quar¬ 
ter a head. 

A Pest on the Ranges 

On the ranges they were a pest indeed. At 
the salt grounds they fought away the cattle 
from the salt, and 1 have seen a band of a hun¬ 
dred head watering at a spring, fighting over the 
troughs and breaking them up as they charged 
back and forth over them, while three or four 
hundred head of cattle waited for a chance to 
drink. When, far across the prairie, the band 
saw a man approaching on horseback, the whole 
bunch tore madly through the cattle standing 
about, knocking down cows, running over and 
killing calves in their eagerness to escape, and 
doing immense damage. 

On the round-ups, with twenty or thirty cow¬ 
boys scattered out “on circle" along a line six 
or seven miles wide, and with all the cattle mov¬ 
ing in good shape ahead of the line of riders 
292 


toward the round-up grounds, far off to one 
side some one would start up a band of “broom 
tails," as the boys called them. Away they 
would tear, picking up new bands here and 
there, until as many as two hundred head would 
sweep right through the cattle, throwing them 
back on the circle of drivers. When once a cat¬ 
tle drive of that kind is turned back on itself, it 
takes hours of hard riding to check the drift 
and get the herd again headed for the round-up 
ground. It was no uncommon thing for the 
day’s work of a whole round-up outfit to be 
lost through such a wild-horse stampede. 

The worst nuisance of all was the carrying off 
of gentle saddle- and work-horses by the wild 
bands. No one dared turn the saddle-horses 
out for the winter as in old days. To do so was 
to say good-by to almost all of them, for once 
with the wild ones they were as good as gone 
forever. 

Recovering a Lost Saddle-Horse 

I well remember one young stockman who 
lost a splendid saddle-horse, an eastern-raised 
animal that was the pride of his heart. The 





WILL C. 

horse was a beautiful gray, and easily dis¬ 
tinguishable at a great distance. He was fre¬ 
quently seen with a band of very wild mustangs 
in an extremely rough and broken country. The 
young fellow determined to get his horse if it 
could be done, and he spent a week in locating 
the watering-place of the band, which he dis¬ 
covered was at the bottom of a very deep canon. 
The trail leading to it came out at the top 
of the canon in a place where the horses had 
to pass in narrow file between several huge 
boulders, and just over the narrowest spot was 
a pihon tree some thirty-five or forty feet in 
height. After carefully looking the ground 
over, the horse hunter decided that his only 
chance was to catch his horse as it came up the 
trail. 

Since the band watered only at night, he 
chose a moonlight period. He decided to hang 
his lasso from the pinon tree, with a noose fixed 
in such a way that by the most delicate pull it 
would drop over the animal’s head. One after¬ 
noon he carefully arranged his noose, hanging it 
from the tree branches just above the trail and 
high enough to clear the horse’s head. The 
other end he fastened in the top of the tree, so 


BARNES 293 

that the spring of the tree would keep the horse 
from breaking the rope. 

Perched in the branches of the pihon, the 
young fellow saw his horse march down the trail 
with the rest and disappear into the black 
depths. An hour later he heard their approach 
up the trail. Heavy with water, one by one 
they reached the top, breathing hard. The 
gray loomed up in the moonlight, as easily seen 
as in the daytime; and as he walked slowly 
under the noose suspended just above his head, 
a slight whistle from the watcher arrested him. 
For an instant the animal stopped, his head 
raised in alarm, and that instant the noose 
dropped about his head. As it touched him, he 
sprang forward with a snort of terror. 

Up to this point the young man’s plan had 
worked beautifully, but one thing he forgot, and 
that was the tremendous spring of the tree. 
Leaning clear over in his eagerness to watch the 
horse below, he was but insecurely perched in 
the branches. When the thousand pounds' 
weight of the frightened horse reached the end 
of the rope, the tree bent far over; then, as the 
animal lost his footing and fell over backward, 
the snap and spring of the tree to its per- 


















294 


WILD HORSES 


pendicular position sent the boy flying like a 
stone from a catapult into a bunch of scrub 
cedars some twenty or thirty feet away. 

When he “came to” it was broad daylight, 
and he was lying on the ground with his face 
badly scratched, his clothes almost torn from 
his body, sore and bruised in every part; but his 
gray was standing quietly near him, as uncon¬ 
cerned as if being caught that way was an every¬ 
day occurrence. Two hours later the boy was 
riding the gray and leading his other animal, 
the proudest mustanger that ever roped a horse. 

An Experience with a Trigger Gate 

On one occasion, after much careful watch¬ 
ing, we had located a water hole at which a 
band of some sixty or seventy horses were 
watering. It was in a dense cedar country 
where one could hardly ride a horse out of a 
walk. We worked for three weeks building a 
fence about the water strong enough to hold 
the band. The circle was gradually closed, so 
slowly that the horses became accustomed to 
the work; and finally we drew the two ends 
together close enough for a gate across the ten- 
foot gap. 

A board gate was built, the boards being car¬ 
ried in on horses some fifteen miles from the 
wagon road. This gate we rigged up with a 
“trigger” and weight, so that it could be closed 
by a pull on a rope which led to a pile of brush 
about a hundred feet away, where a boy could 
be hidden. 

We then kept away for several days to allow 
the horses plenty of opportunity to become ac¬ 
customed to going in and out of the gate. One 
day we rode over to the spot and rigged up the 
weight and trigger and gave it t a good test. 
Then, leaving one of the boys under the brush 
shelter, with the end of the rope in his hands, we 
all went back some distance where we could hide 
and watch the horses come in. 

It was almost sunset before the horses we 
wanted came along. One or two small bunches 
dropped in to water, but were allowed to go un¬ 
molested. Finally, with a noise like that of 
artillery, the horses we wanted came racing 
through the trees and slowly entered the gate. 

Just what was happening we could not see, 
but after what seemed an age we saw the boy 
under the brush break for the gate at a run, 
with the evident intention of closing it by 
hand. Just as he had it about half closed, 
the frightened horses, almost in a solid body, 
drove against the gate from the inside, tearing it 
from the wooden hinges we had made and throw¬ 
ing it back on top of the luckless gate tender, 
who went down under it. Over the gate and 
his form the sixty or eighty head of horses flew. 


Horses will hardly ever step on anything 
lying on the ground if they can jump over it, 
and although a number did step on the gate, 
the majority cleared it at a jump. 

When we got there and lifted the heavy gate 
off the prostrate form, one of the boys remarked, 
“Well, here's a job for the coroner, sure.” But 
although skinned up pretty badly and with a 
wrenched shoulder, he soon came to, and his 
first words were, “Did I git 'em?” It turned 
out that as the horses went in, one enterprising 
old mare had stopped at the gate post where the 
trigger was set and in some way tangled the 
rope to which the weight was attached, so that 
it would not act. The boy, eager to make the 
catch, risked his life in an attempt to close the 
gate by hand. 

More Good Horses Killed than Captured 

The rise in the price of horses that began in 
1902 and 1903 helped to clean up many of these 
wild horse bands, because at last there was a 
market for them. Hundreds were gathered and 
shipped away, but there are still great droves 
of them, wilder than the wildest deer, more 
wary and harder to catch than the smartest fox, 
all over the West. They run in the most inac¬ 
cessible places, where the boldest ride: cannot 
go faster than a walk. If you crowd them, they 
will split up, each going its own way, like so 
many quail. Get them to the gate of a corral 
and surround them with a solid line of men, and 
in their mad rush to escape they will jump over 
or ride down any mounted man in their way. 

Probably more good horses have been killed 
outright in this work than ever were captured. 
A man with the desire to win, forgetful of all 
but the animal he is after, crowds his saddle- 
pony mile after mile, until with a convulsive 
shudder the plucky animal drops dead in its 
tracks and the hapless rider must carry his 
saddle miles and miles to camp. 

I once saw a man whose pony thus dropped 
under him jerk out his Winchester and pump a 
dozen shots into the band he was after, each 
shot with deadly effect in so dense a mass, and 
then throw his arms about his dying pony's 
neck and cry like a baby. 

If, after reading this account of the difficul¬ 
ties surrounding the wild horse question, any 
one with a “sure method” for capturing them 
wants an opportunity to put it to a practical 
test, he will get a hearty welcome from the 
stockmen and a splendid run for his money in 
many parts of the range country in Nevada, Ore¬ 
gon, Wyoming, Idaho, New Mexico, and 
Arizona, and especially upon some of the na¬ 
tional forests, where the wild horses present a 
difficult and decidedly knotty problem. 


SHABOGAN 


BY 

ORIC BATES 


“ITT was Shabogan that carried me through 

I the Paper Chase last year/' Barry Bold- 
brooke said. "He was worth importing 
for that alone.” 

Barry had been expatiating on a horse 
he had brought over from some outlandish part 
of eastern Europe, somewhere in the Ukraine, 
1 believe. 

''Tell me about it,” I urged him. "You fel¬ 
lows never write particulars about anything.” 

1 was just back from a trip around the world, 
and I was eager to pick up the details of all that 
had happened during my absence. The Paper 
Chase is a sort of sacred survival at the Rodham 
Country Club. It is an annual jubilee; an insti¬ 
tution never to be abolished; a yearly reminder 
of the days when the club was hardly started, 
and the purses of the charter members were so 
drained that we despaired of kennels, and the 
pack seemed a dream never to be realized. In 
those days of pride and poverty,— both due to 
the new club-house,— a Master of Fox-Hounds, 
having no fox-hounds to master, proved himself 
a man of genius by instituting what Fosdick 
irreverently terms "the sacrament of the Paper 
Chase.” 

The old days are gone, and some good things 
with them; but although there is not in the 
State a finer pack than at Rodham, although 
most of us own our three hunters and some of us 
more, the Paper Chase is still kept up. We 
stick faithfully to it yet, and so shall, fate willing, 
to the end of the chapter. Good hunting men 
have been humbled on those autumnal runs, and 
he whose name is graven among the "firsts” on 
the silver 'scutcheon must have the seat of a 
dragoon and the thews of a Titan. 

I was especially interested in Barry’s allu¬ 
sion to this particular race, for there had reached 
me, across three thousand miles of blue water, 
rumors vague and romantic that with this fa¬ 
mous run was somehow connected Barry’s en¬ 
gagement. He had married, not long after, 
one of the most charming little women in the 
world. When I left America his courtship was 
a staple of talk and speculation among all his 


friends. Molly Cartright was a clever and 
beautiful girl, very demure and very daring, 
quite capable, did the fancy enter her pretty 
head, of trying to lift a cab-horse over the Wash¬ 
ington Monument. Many had offered their 
hearts and hands to Molly, but eventually the 
contest for her favor had narrowed itself to the 
conspicuous rivalry between Barry Boldbrooke 
and Johnny Carew. Barry threw himself at her 
feet, as it were, and practically said: “Kindly 
walk over me.” We used to say among our¬ 
selves at the club that he would never pluck up 
courage really to ask her to marry him; and I 
always held that, while she probably liked him 
■ better than she did the other, she would get tired 
of waiting for him to speak, and would in the end 
be carried off by Carew. Johnny was always 
pulling his moustaches with a proprietary air, as 
if he said: "You never can resist me; million¬ 
aire, you know, and such a killing fellow.” 
Molly, as I had watched her, seemed interested, 
but undecided. She would raise Barry’s hopes 
by borrowing — and laming — a pony; then dash 
them by sitting out in a corner of the club porch 
of a moonlight night, chatting for hours with 
Carew. Rodham takes a healthy interest in 
matters of this sort; and before I left, it had 
come to betting. I had a trifle on Johnny my¬ 
self ; and I was eager now to know how I had 
lost it — although my sympathy was always 
with Barry. 

"Well, you see,” began Boldbrooke, "it was 
all Shabogan. It was his first real run. If it 
hadn't been for him, dear old brute, I don’t know 
where I’d be now. In the first place, Molly — 
But I don’t want to bore you.” 

"Drive ahead,” returned I, pleased bv the 
hint his wife’s name conveyed that I might get 
the information I was after. 

"The run,” he said, settling himself in his 
chair, "was on Thursday — a brisk sort of a 
day, with a clear sky and a keen wind; not 
strong, you know, but just the thing to put life 
into man and mount. The start was set for 
quarter past nine; and most of us hacked over 
to the club for breakfast. At table I sat nearly 

295 


SHA BOGAN 


296 

opposite Molly. Johnny Carew — you recol¬ 
lect?— was on her right. Everybody was in 
the deuce of a hurry, and, what with the chatter 
and the rattle of dishes, you couldn’t have heard 
a horn ! I could see that Johnny was saying 
something pretty particular to Molly, and she 
was coloring and tossing her head in a way that 
made me devilish nervous. You see, Johnny 
and 1 had been at it hard for six months, and I 
was so afraid of him and of her that 1 simply 
didn’t dare to speak up to her for fear I'd get 
thrown out of the race altogether. There he 
sat pulling those little brad-awl moustaches and 
whispering with such a conceited air of owning 
her and everything else that 1 wanted to tweak 
his nose for him. Of course, breakfast in such a 
hurry was a short affair, but I tell you it seemed 
long enough to me ! When it was over, I was on 
the east verandah getting what comfort I could 
out of a cigarette, and talking to Felix Harding. 
He was one of the hares — Hallam and Roberts 
were the others. At a quarter of nine they 
started, so as to have their half-hour’s lead, and 
1 watched them round the bend, scattering the 
white squares of scent, and I felt as if I would 
like to go home and give the whole thing up. 

“ Pretty soon the field began to get to horse — 
grooms calling, the clink of bit and bridoon, the 
hounds yelping down in the kennels, and asking 
why they weren’t in it: you know the usual 
racket. The noise cheered me a little, but I was 
rather glum in spite of it. 1 had meant to ride 
Rajah, but he was a bit feverish in the hocks 
that morning, and I’d taken Shabogan. I 
hadn’t had him long enough to be well ac¬ 
quainted with him; but he was certainly the 
best mount I had. As I told you, he’s a brute 
of a beast, all of sixteen hands high, and with a 
head like a trunk. You’ll see him in the field 
next Wednesday; I bet he’ll give that new 
brown of yours all he wants. I was waiting for 
him to be brought around, when all of a sudden 
Molly came quickly up to me on the verandah. 
She was white as a sheet; I sha’n’t forget it in 
a hurry. I had a horrid feeling that something 
awful must have happened. 

“‘Oh, Barry,' says she; ‘I want to speak to 
you.’ 

“We stepped round the corner out of sight of 
the crowd. I was in a funk, she looked so mor¬ 
tally scared, and I asked her in a hurry what the 
trouble was. 

“‘Oh, Barry,’ says she with a sort of gasp, 
'caq you beat Johnny Carew to-day?’ 

“M can try,’ I gave her back. ‘What’s he 
done?' 

“She went all crimson in a minute. ‘Oh, I 
ought not to tell you,’ she burst out, ‘and I don’t 
think you’ll ever respect me again; but I must! 


I must! He’s been proposing to me regularly 
for the last fortnight.’— I put in a word she was 
luckily too excited to notice.—‘And this morn¬ 
ing at breakfast he asked me again. I don’t 
know what possessed me, except that I was all 
stirred up, and before I knew it 1 ’d said yes. 
I really didn’t mean it, Barry, and the minute 
the word was out I was so frightened I could 
have screamed. I just said the first thing that 
came into my head, and tried to hedge. He'd 
been boasting about his new hunter, Rallywood, 
and I managed somehow or other to tell him my 
promise didn’t hold unless he brought his horse 
in first. Then I got away from him, and I’ve 
been trying ever since to find you.’ Then she 
stopped and looked at me as if somehow I was 
her judge.’’ 

Boldbrooke was silent a moment, puffing his 
cigar, and very likely recalling the scene. 

“Well,’’ he went on again, “she was almost in 
tears, for all she’s so plucky, and I fancy I 
looked rather sick, what with never having 
dared to ask her myself and knowing that Rally- 
wood was a splendid creature, with half a page 
in the stud-book and a tall reputation of his 
own. Shabogan I knew was a wonderful 
jumper, but whether he had bottom for a long 
run I couldn’t tell. I was sure of one thing, 
however, and that was that if Shabogan couldn’t 
do for Rallywood, we hadn’t anything that 
could. I reckoned it all out in a couple of sec¬ 
onds, and then I had a rush of anger at the risk 
of it all, and the position Molly was in. I got 
cold with the thought of it. 

‘“1 don’t know,’ I told her, ‘whether I can 
oblige you or not; it depends so largely on Sha¬ 
bogan that you might do well to ask him. As 
for Johnny Carew, he may break his silly neck 
if he wants to; at least he's something to break 
it for. Still, since you do me the honor, I sup¬ 
pose I’m bound to get what 1 can out of my 
mount, even if it knocks him up for the rest of 
the season.’ Or some such speech, you know; 
nasty enough. 

“She looked sort of queer for a moment, and 
in spite of my tantrum I couldn’t help being 
bowled over. I can see now what a fool I was. 
She only said: ‘Oh, I knew you would! You 
shall wear my colors.’ She took a purple aster 
out of a little bunch she had on the bosom of her 
habit, and stuck it into my buttonhole. Just 
then round the corner came Johnny himself. 
The minute my eyes lit on him I knew I was 
going to run him out that day or be left in a 
ditch with poor old Shabogan on top of me. 
‘Oh,’ says he, ‘here you are.’ Then he stopped 
short, as if it came over him that we looked 
queer; and he’d noticed the aster. He was 
sharp in some ways, was Johnny. ‘Won’t you 



ORIC BATES 


297 


favor me, too?' he asked, looking at Molly in a 
challenging sort of way. ‘I ’m so sorry/ she gave 
him back; ‘ but these are my colors. 1 can only 
give them for a home-horse, you know/ That 
was rather a slap, for Carew was the newest 
member of the club, and always made it under¬ 
stood that he belonged at the Rodham only in 
the hunting season. Before Johnny could say 
anything to that, the first horn sounded, and we 
all hurried round the porch. 

“ Carew put Molly in her saddle, and then got 
mounted. Shabogan was infernally restive, 
tossing that big head of his, and lifting his feet as 
if his shoes were hot. Johnny and 1 were at 
opposite ends of the line of the men entered for 
a place on the ’scutcheon. Rallywood was a 
clean, long-legged bay, with a small head and 
tremendous withers. In points there wasn’t a 
horse there that he didn’t outclass. We were 
all ready; the men in the line; the ladies and 
the other followers close behind us; old Murray 
sitting his big gray with watch in one hand and 
horn in the other. Ahead of us the wind was 
turning the white squares of paper on the gravel. 
Suddenly old Murray clapped his horn to his 
lips, and we let in our spurs and slacked reins 
with 'hup!* as one man. 

“You know how it is,— the first burst that 
thins out the field seldom lasts more than a 
couple of hundred yards. After that the whole 
thing’s alternate canter and gallop to the finish. 
The rest of the field stuck to the old tactics; 1 
stuck to Carew. The first stretch was down the 
road for about half a mile, and we went it neck 
and neck. He must, of course, have had a pretty 
tall guess at how things stood, and he rode like 
the deuce.” 

“Johnny had a wonderful seat,” I interrupted 
Barry here; “but no hands to go with it.” 

“That’s quite right,” Boldbrooke assented. 
“He didn’t have much in the way of hands — 
showed it that day. He rode, though, — really 
rode. Eve seen him carry a silver dollar be¬ 
tween his knee and the leather to the end of the 
drive and back: he was amazingly saddle-fast. 
Well, we went thundering along the road, and I 
said to myself, 'He’ll do for us both; I'd better 
pull up.’ Right on the heels of that came the 
thought, ‘If I do, I may lose him/ So I hung 
on. We were galloping with the wind, and I 
realized that some of the scent must have blown 
past the place where the hares turned out. As 
on the left hand it was wooded, I turned sharp 
out to the right, jumped the drain and stone 
wall, and was lucky enough to light fair in the 
prints of the hares. Johnny held on to the end 
of the trail, and then jumped. As the hares had 
turned back a bit, 1 was about thirty yards 
ahead. That lot there, you remember, is low 


hills, cropped close by sheep. The trail crossed 
over toward the southeast, and I could see the 
end disappear round a low saddle-ridge. I had 
a feeling that it must double clean round the 
ridge instead of just hitting off from it. It was 
a sort of inspiration, but in a minute 1 saw fresh 
hoof-prints leading up and across the lowest part 
of the hill, and knew that two of the hares had 
taken the short cut while the third went round 
with the scent-bag. 1 put Shabogan in their 
tracks, and he bolted over the rise. This time 
Carew followed. As Shabogan went hurtling 
down the other side of the ridge 1 saw the trail 
again, leading straight to the north and disap¬ 
pearing into a dubious sort of wood road. Be¬ 
fore I got to it, I had a horrid sensation that 
Johnny was picking up. Despite all I could do, 
his bay got into that wood road neck and neck 
with my black. Rallywood, on those kangaroo 
legs of his, must have shot over that ridge in 
about three leaps! 

“That road is only used for sledding in winter. 
By fall it has had time to grow pretty wild, and 
though there was room and to spare for a single 
horseman, it was vicious for two abreast. If I 
had been thinking of anything except how to 
keep Rallywood from showing me his heels, I 
should have chuckled at the thought of how it 
would string out the field. As we rode, the 
branches of the sapling maples and birches 
swept us with swish-wish, and so touched up 
both our mounts that Tam 0' Shanter would 
have been an ‘also-ran ’ alongside of us. Johnny 
yelled out something that sounded like ‘My 
lead!’ and tried furiously to take it; but I 
worked equally hard to get ahead myself. The 
result was we rubbed boots about sixty yards, 
yelling at each other all the way. The luck of 
being on the inside of a sudden turn gave me a 
chance, and Shabogan, with a great leap, made 
the most of it. I came near being raked out of 
the saddle by the branches, but managed to 
hang on somehow, and Johnny had to pull 
behind, making remarks that were sulphurous. 

“We were getting near the river, and the 
ground grew quoggy. I thanked heaven for 
my lead, trifling as it was. There’s nothing a 
horse makes fly like that fat, clayey mud; and 
Carew got plastered from head to heels with the 
cakes that flew from Shabogan’s hoofs,— though 
of course I didn’t see it till later. One burst 
more brought us to the river. The water was 
rippling over the brownish pebbles of the ford, 
and we both plashed in. I nearly wept for 
Shabogan, for the great beast was smoking like 
a furnace, and the water was ice-cold. There 
was no pausing, however, and the horses were 
out almost in a minute. Treacherous as the 
bottom is, we didn’t wade; we galloped it. 1 


SHA BOGAN 


298 

was soaked before I got over, and of course, 
Johnny, being shorter, was rather worse than 
better. 

" We'd hardly got over than my hair stood on 
end ! Shabogan rammed his near hind leg into 
a muck-hole, and seemed unable to pull clear. 
Johnny floundered laboriously by, and spared 
me a grin as he went. I quilted poor Shabogan 
across the withers and yelled to him. He 
jerked himself free with a sort of sob, and I 
heard the smack of the clay as his leg came. 1 
hadn’t fallen so far behind but that I got a taste 
of mud in my turn; but not for long, for by the 
time I caught up we reached dry ground,— a 
meadow, and beyond that, plowed land. The 
white scent at the edge of the meadow was 
mixed with red,— dangerous, you know,— so 
we pulled up. Though we trotted carefully, we 
got into a hole or two, though nothing serious. 
As we crossed, we held a confab. I said that if 
we hadn’t found the hares, we’d at least lost the 
hounds. 

"‘What the blazes did they take across a rot¬ 
ten strip like this for?’ he growled. 

" I told him 1 gave it up, and he blurted out a 
question whether my horse had much bottom. 
I said he had no end. ‘Looks deuced blown/ 
was his next move. I assured him it was all 
nerves, that Shabogan was only bothered about 
the infernal holes in the bog; and Johnny was 
quiet till we had got within ten yards of the 
plowed land. ‘Barry,’ says he, ‘will you make 
a truce? Will you walk abreast of me and 
breathe horses till the field’s in sight?’ I 
thought of Shabogan and the pace we’d come, 
and I wanted to say yes for the sake of my grand 
old beast, but I knew Rallywood must need the 
rest more than he did or Johnny wouldn’t have 
made the proposition. ‘ I ’ll be hanged if I do/ 
I told him. ‘I’m in a hurry.’ 

"The next minute we were at the plowed 
ground, and off we went to make up for lost 
time. The scent led to a barbed-wire fence. 
The take-off was good, but the fence was all of 
five foot. I’d never put Shabogan at wire, and 
he flew it nervously, though I fancy I was more 
scared than he was. Johnny couldn’t have had 
any trouble, for we tore over the second field 
neck and neck, riding for all we were worth. 
The thing uppermost in my mind was that 
Shabogan, Slavic importation as he was, was as 
good a horse as Rallywood with all his pedigree; 
and I meant to prove it or die trying. A board 
fence was ahead of us, and beyond that a farm¬ 
house and barn. The fence was a stiff one — 
six feet at least; I confess I didn’t know whether 
we'd get over it, Shabogan and I, together, 
singly, or not at all; but he took it like a hero, 
rapped it with one hoof, and landed safe. At the 


same instant 1 heard an awful crash of broken 
glass, a wild curse from Johnny, and a shout 
from somewhere near the barn. Carew had 
cleared the fence about ten feet from where 1 
crossed, but had had the devil’s luck to land in 
the middle of some glass frames. I never could 
see how he got out of them without cutting his 
mount all to pieces, but somehow he did it. The 
farmer, who happened to be in the yard, roared 
at us to stop; and as we didn’t, he let drive at 
me — I was the nearer — with a bucket-bail he 
had in his hand. I saw it start, but was out of 
range before it came up. 

"The trail led diagonally across the place to a 
low picket fence that divided the farm from the 
road. Johnny sailed over it and scrambled up 
the drain beyond, though he pulled on his curb 
so it looked as if he’d be thrown. Shabogan 
rose beautifully; cleared the fence; but some¬ 
thing went wrong,— changed feet, possibly,— 
and when we landed it was in the ditch, and I 
shot over his head as if I’d been fired from a 
gun!" 

"Great Scott, Barry," I cried. "How did 
you catch your mount?" 

A horse that under the circumstances would 
not have lost his head and run was a miracle not 
to be expected. 

"Catch him?" echoed Barry, dramatically 
flinging up an arm, " I’m blessed if I don’t think 
the angelic brute knew’how things stood ! He 
just clambered out of the ditch, and stood in the 
middle of the road looking after Johnny on the 
home stretch. When I got to my feet, the first 
thing 1 saw was the blue and white scent, the 
straightaway sign. I knew in a flash that the 
hares had given us six open miles to finish. Like 
the chaps in the story-books, I vaulted into the 
saddle, seeing Carew going, it seemed to me, a 
mile a second; and before I could touch that 
horse with spur or crop, he was flying down the 
road, belly to earth. We’ve seen and done 
some tall riding, you and 1 , but by Jovq ! you’ve 
never traveled as 1 did then. Shabogan laid 
those ears of his back, and made himself flatter 
and flatter, till it almost seemed as if I could put 
my foot to the ground. I’m not fanciful,— you 
know that,— but I felt as if I were one of his old 
Tartar masters on the trail of a blood enemy! 
I’m half inclined now to think some Cossack 
deviltry was in the beast. Those pollard wil¬ 
lows over by Winford flew past like telegraph 
poles when you’re in a train. I got a glimpse of 
the field between ’em, ’way off on the left, 
straggling across the meadow, and they looked 
like boys ! — Do you know, all this time, I no 
more thought of Molly than I did about the 
national debt. According to story-books I 
ought to have reflected that I’d die for her sake. 


ORIC BATES 


299 


but the only thing in my head was that win 1 
must! I wanted to win for the sake of winning; 
1 was ready to kill myself to get ahead of 
Johnny. Shabogan’s hoofbeats seemed some¬ 
how to get mixed up with myself. It was the 
most exciting thing 1 ever went through. 1 
know how the Tartar on the trail feels, all right. 

"On we went in the dust of Rallywood. We 
rattled over a bridge, and before Johnny was off 
I was on; and for one instant the hoofbeats of 
both horses dropped to a deeper note on the 
wood. 1 could see Carew half turn at the 
sound, and with a glorious sort of thrill I realized 
that he was startled to find us so near. I let out 
a regular whoop, and on we went! 

"With four miles or so to go I was up with 
him, he leading by about half a length. The 
pace was cruel, and both horses were breathing 
pretty heavily. Presently I heard, far off, as it 
were, and yet close to me, Johnny shout: ‘The 
hares !’ And sure enough there they were, all 
three, about half a mile ahead. It seemed to 
me that Shabogan was showing more endurance 
than Rallywood. We were neck and neck, with 
three miles to go, and Rallywood was beginning 
to wheeze. As for me, I began to be afraid I’d 
be the one to give out, not the horse. A fall 
always shakes me up, especially if I don’t have 
time to argue it out with myself that Pm all 
there; and I had come an astonishing cropper. 
I ground my teeth at the bare idea of getting 
done, and resolved Pd stick to the saddle or 
tumble off dead. Down the road we pounded, 
and in spite of being so shaken up I was in a 
perfect tingle with the mad excitement of it. 
It was simply glorious. The hares turned in 
their saddles to look back, and then bent low 
and began to club up. Of course, with their 
handicap, they got in ahead of us, but we pretty 
well spoiled their time. 

"We were neck and neck when we struck the 
last mile. With half a mile to go we were still 
even. Then Shabogan struck a loose pebble, 
and we began the last quarter with Johnny lead¬ 
ing by a head. I was pretty nearly frantic, 
what with my shake-up and the excitement. 
We saw the crowd by the club, and the way 
opening between them like a lane. I spared 
Shabogan till the very end. We weren’t ten 
yards from the post when I jabbed him with my 
spurs. I gave him one fierce cut with my crop, 
and let out something between a yell and a howl. 
He fairly bolted : he flew ! I shut my eyes and 
sat tight! 

"When I opened them, the crowd was yards 
behind me, and seemed, when I pulled up and 
looked back, to be gathered round Johnny. I 
thought he’d won, and I went as weak as water. 

I felt as if I never could look plucky old Shabo¬ 


gan in the face. Then Malcolm, my man, came 
running in, and caught the bridle. He was 
grinning and stuttering in a way there was no 
mistaking; and I fairly swayed in the saddle, I 
was so knocked out by the shock. 

"‘I knowed ’e’d do it, sir,’ he blurted out. 
‘I knowed ’e ’ad it in 'im/ 

"I told him to help me down, then to get a 
siphon of soda to rinse Shabogan’s mouth, and 
to rub his hocks with furfurol wash. 1 felt 
limper than a rag, but I straightened up as old 
Murray trotted over. 

"‘Devil fly away with me/ he cried out. 
‘What the deuce is the meaning of all this—- 
killin’ good horse-flesh in this way? Gad, 
though, a pretty spurt. Fairly won, begad! 
You're not sellin’ that brute, are you though?' 

‘“Not much!' says I. ‘How much did he 
win by?' 

‘“Head and a half officially/ Murray threw 
back grinning. ‘A hundred leagues otherwise.' 

" Just then somebody sighted the field, or part 
of it, and of course old Murray had to turn back 
and judge for third. Tony Whibley got it; he ’d 
led the field for the last eight miles without get¬ 
ting so much as a glimpse of us ! You see we’d 
done thirteen miles in fifty-four minutes. 

"A lot of men got about me, but I was of 
course soaked with sweat and filthy with mud; 
so I got away from them, and started for the 
house to change. Fosdick was staying at the 
club. I got the steward to let me into his room, 
and I picked out a decent looking suit,— his 
best, it turned out,— and started to clean up. 
I pulled off my scarlet coat just as the racket in 
the road showed that the field was coming in; 
when, by Jove, the whole sound was blotted out 
by the sight of a draggled aster in my button¬ 
hole. The blessed thing looked so confoundedly 
pathetic — so reproachful, even ! The thought 
of how it got there, and of what I had really been 
riding for was more like three fingers of neat 
brandy than anything you can think of. It 
simply made me tingle all over! I rushed 
through my bath, and stuck the aster up on the 
dressing-table where I could look at it while I 
piled into Fosdick’s clothes. I got down stairs 
as soon as I could, as happy as a clam, and the 
first person I met was Harding, coming along 
with Mrs. Lord. 

"‘Hello,’ he called out, 'you've stopped, have 
you? The way you were going at the post, I 
thought you’d be late to dinner getting back.' 

‘“Oh, Mr. Boldbrooke/ chirruped Mrs. Lord, 
— you know that confoundedly affected way of 
hers,—‘it was per-fect-ly splendid !' 

" I escaped, and went to have a look at Sha¬ 
bogan. Dad used to say that a good horseman 
might have an engagement to die, but he’d look 


THE MERCHANTS 1 CALL 


300 

after his nag first. Malcolm touched his cap as 
I came into the stable, and I knew by the wrin¬ 
kles round his eyes that I was on the track of 
more than the horse. 

“‘Shabogan’s in number nine, sir. There's a 
lady in with 'im, sir/ 

“You may bet that was a bracer. I told 
Malcolm to get some apples from the steward, 
and to have them cored. Off he went, and I 
found the stall,— the last on the left,— and 
went in. Through the grill I saw Shabogan in 
his blankets, and Molly with her arm round his 
neck and her face in his mane. Both heard me 
coming. The horse pricked up his ears, and 
Molly raised her head. It suddenly came over 
me that I'd treated her like a brute in the morn¬ 
ing when she was in trouble, and for a second I 
was afraid of how she'd receive me. 

“‘Well/ I said, ‘you see Shabogan was able to 
oblige you/ 

“‘Oh, Barry/ she said, with her voice all 
a-tremble, ‘it was perfectly splendid !' 

“‘Don’t!' I cried out. ‘Mrs. Lord just said 
that/ 

“Then, with a rush, I ducked clean under 
Shabogan — deuced undignified thing to do, 
but I didn't stop to think,— and got over to her 
side." 


Barry was silent a minute, back again, I dare 
say, with his horse and his lady. 

“Seems funny, doesn't it ?” he continued med¬ 
itatively, “but I got my courage up after six 
months' shilly-shallying, and actually proposed 
in a box-stall. Those poet chaps aren't so far 
out, after all, when they say that sort of thing 
makes any place romantic. After a while she 
said that after her foolishness that morning she 
didn’t think I could ever respect her again, and 
much less ask her to marry me. I told her it 
was all right that time, but for heaven's sake 
not to do it again. We thought that wa$ funny 
and began to laugh; but it really was funny 
when somebody came and actually knocked at 
the door of the stall. I saw Malcolm grinning 
through the grill, and roared at him to come 
in. Molly blushed furiously, but she couldn't 
keep her face straight when he rolled the 
door back with the air of one of the Holy 
Innocents. 

‘“'Ere's the yappels, sir,' says he, as solemn 
as a judge. ' 1 had to step round to the kitchen 
to get 'em cored. I 'ope I hain't kep' yer 
waitin’, sir.' 

“The cheek of the beggar !" concluded Barry. 
“ But he's as fond as Molly and I are of good old 
Shabogan." 


THE MERCHANTS’ CALL 

BY 

GEORGIANA GODDARD KING 

C OME buy, white maids, come buy, come buy ! 
Laces, fans, and broidered gloves, 

Ribbons for true-lovers' knots, 

Cushions stuffed with down of doves, 

Roses' balm distilled, and pots 
Brimmed with Orient philtery. 

Come buy, come buy ! 

Come buy, tall lads, come buy, come buy J 
Damasked stuffs for a pretty neighbour, 

Lawn as light as April air, 

And the spinning worm's bright labour; 

Corals to bind up her hair, 

Owches to enchant her eye. 

Come buy, come buy ! 


From “The Way 0} Perfect Love " 


THE EXPERIENCE AND OBSERVATIONS 
OF A NEW YORK SALOON-KEEPER 


AS TOLD B 

C N Sunday, September 6, I noticed 
k an advertisement in the New York 
■ papers, offering a “dandy” saloon 
r for sale. Inquirers were directed 
to address an agent named James J. 
Cunningham. I looked up this man next morn¬ 
ing, and found him very affable, even cordial. 

I had no definite idea of engaging in the saloon 
business, but Cunningham was very plausible. 
He described the place in question to me, dwelt 
on the proposition that here was a chance for an 
elderly, well-educated man like myself to get 
possession of a fine paying business for very 
little money, and explained to me that no ex¬ 
perience was required to operate the business 
successfully. 

It turned out that Mr. Cunningham had a 
partner, Mr. Pye, and it was the latter who at¬ 
tended to the actual work of showing places for 
sale to prospective buyers, and striking the bar¬ 
gains. So Pye was called up on the telephone, 
and it was arranged that he should meet me 
next day at Cunningham's office. 

He did meet me, and accompanied me not 
only to the “dandy” saloon, but to several 
others that were also for sale. He gave me a lot 
of information about all these places. When 
we entered the “dandy” saloon, we found it 
crowded with people who were gaily spending 
their substance at the bar. Most of them were 
men of good appearance, and many of them 
were well-dressed and prosperous looking. 

The proprietor, Frank Drugan, sat down at a 
table with us, and answered questions put to 
him. He said he had not been at all anxious to 
sell his place, for it had paid him very well. 
But he had just accepted a fine position under 
the Park Department, which paid him a salary 
of one hundred and fifty dollars a month, with 
little to do and the certain prospect of prefer¬ 
ment; and as the municipal law forbade him to 
keep a saloon while in the city's employ, he was 
now obliged to sell it. The agent, Pye, con- 

* The author of this article is a German, a man of education, 
s story is an accurate account of his experience in the business 
of saloon-keeping. For obvious reasons his name is withheld, and 
his associates here appear under fictitious names. —Editor. 


Y HIMSELF* 

firmed this, and so did a friend of Drugan's who 
was called in. 

In an aside Pye said to me that Drugan was 
“politics mad,” like so many other Irishmen, 
and that that was really the reason of his 
being willing to sacrifice his fine place for a 
song. 

Drugan produced some books and papers, 
which seemed to bear out his claims. He main¬ 
tained that his profits from the saloon had been 
from fifty to sixty dollars a week. It was easy 
to see that Drugan was a hard drinker. He 
himself admitted this in conversation, and added 
that his wife had been very anxious to get him 
out of the business. This again was confirmed 
by Pye and Drugan's friend. 

I inquired about the stock in the place, and 
was shown around the cellar, and allowed to in¬ 
spect the glass cabinets that lined the walls of 
the bar-room proper. The rows of bottles of 
high-priced whiskies, brandies, cordials, wines, 
etc. and the piles of apparently filled boxes of 
cigars made a fine showing and seemed to repre¬ 
sent a value of hundreds of dollars. 

However, I did not make a decision that day. 
There were some other places advertised that I 
wanted to look at, and during the next two days 
I did so. Nothing came of this, and on Thurs¬ 
day I looked up Cunningham once more. He 
descanted again on the charms and advantages 
of the “dandy” saloon. Meanwhile he sum¬ 
moned Pye by telephone, and we should have 
gone together to Drugan's place, if my previous 
engagements had not prevented. 

When Pye and I left Cunningham, he was 
under the impression that we were going directly 
to the “dandy” saloon, and he called Drugan to 
the telephone in the drug-store across the 
street from the saloon, and warned him to get 
ready for our coming. The druggist told me 
this a few days later, adding that Drugan, an 
hour or two afterward, had telephoned to Cun¬ 
ningham: “For goodness' sake, when is that 
sucker coming? My place is jammed with 
snide customers, who are eating and drinking 
and smoking me out of house and home.” 

301 


302 


THE EXPERIENCE AND OBSERVATIONS 


/ Own a Saloon Without Liquor 

Of these goings-on I was not then aware. 
Suffice it to say that on a Friday morning, 
Pye took me once more to Drugan's place, and 
that I made as searching an examination of it 
and its revenues as I was capable of. The 
brewery beer book was produced, and from it 
1 saw that forty half-barrels a week had been 
the average. He showed me the entries in his 
little receipt book, which apparently demon¬ 
strated that his receipts for the last three days 
had been, respectively, fifty-three, forty-six, and 
forty-nine dollars. I ascertained later on that 
these entries were bogus, and that his real re¬ 
ceipts had been about forty per cent less. 

As to the stock, that seemed to be untouched 
since my last visit. There stood the rows of 
shining bottles of liquor and wine; there were 
other rows of "wet goods” in their original 
packing; there were the cigar boxes in their old 
places. It seemed like a gratuitous insult to 
examine these things more closely. 

At the urging of the agent, Pye, I made a def¬ 
inite offer to Drugan for his place. There was 
some haggling, but finally we agreed on a price, 
and Pye quickly filled out the bill of sale, stating 
that one thousand dollars had been paid for the 
stock, good-will, lease, etc. of the place. I drew 
my check for the amount, and handing that over 
to Drugan, 1 took possession of the saloon. 
Drugan passed over the keys to me, and calling 
out, "Tom,” "Dan,” he presented me to his 
bartender and porter as the “new boss.” 

Then he and Pye hurriedly left to cash my 
check. Both were visibly excited. Too late, I 
learned that this was because they were afraid I 
might quickly rue my bargain and telephone 
my bank downtown to stop payment on the 
check. 

I did not examine my stock closely until the 
following day, when I found that most of what I 
had bought was in reality only "false front.” 
That is, the bottles of wine, to all appearance in 
their original packing, were water; so were the 
bottles of whisky, brandy, kiimmel, gin, cor¬ 
dial, vermouth, etc. The boxes of cigars were 
empty. The stock which I had estimated at 
two hundred and fifty or three hundred dollars 
was in reality worth about twenty dollars. So 
depleted was it, in fact, that there was not even 
enough liquor in the place to last a day, and I 
had at once to give an order for liquor to the 
4 gent who had regularly supplied the place, a 
young Hebrew. The porter and the bartender 
simultaneously informed me that the "beer was 
out"; that "number one, two, three, and four 
were run dry” (referring to the faucets at the 
bar); and when I made a hurried visit to the 


cellar, I found this true. There were only empty 
barrels. My predecessor had taken care of 
that. 

The Cold and Haughty Brewery Office 

I hastened to the brewery to order some beer. 
At the same time I wanted to inform the brew¬ 
ers of the change of ownership. When I ar¬ 
rived there I found the office crowded with a 
discouraged-looking set of men,— saloon-keepers 
come to ask some favor from the brewery man¬ 
agement. 

The office of the brewery, where I found my¬ 
self, was arranged much like that of a bank. 
There were only a few chairs placed against the 
wall of the waiting-room, so that most of us 
were compelled to stand. Stout wooden parti¬ 
tions separated us from the clerks. The latter 
affected a very haughty demeanor. To ques¬ 
tions they generally returned no answer what¬ 
ever. It was a weary wait for most of us. 
One of the saloon-keepers, who appeared to 
be in trouble about his license, wanted to 
speak to the superintendent. "You can’t 
see him to-day,” was the curt reply. "When 
can I see him?” "Perhaps day after to¬ 
morrow.” "But that is a busy day with 
me,” said the crestfallen petitioner. "Can’t 
help it — lucky if you see him then.” The col¬ 
lector, too, was not easily approachable. "You 
must come back to-morrow morning,” I was 
told, after waiting patiently for half an hour. 
" Be here punctually at half-past eight. That's 
the best time.” 

The owners of the brewery were young men, 
knowing next to nothing of its affairs, and car¬ 
ing less. They conceived it to be their chief 
duty to spend its large revenues. The brains 
and moving force of the concern was a German 
who was styled the "superintendent.” Al¬ 
though I was unable to have speech with him 
that afternoon, the clerks around the office as¬ 
sured me that all the beer I wanted would be 
sent to my place, especially as I had told them 
that I would pay cash for it on delivery, until a 
different arrangement could be made with the 
brewery. However, despite all their promises, 
the brewery did not send me any beer, and at six 
o’clock Friday evening I was obliged to close up 
my place, because I had no beer. This, I 
thought, was certainly a discouraging start. 

The next day being Saturday,— the most 
remunerative day for the saloon-keeper,— I 
went to the brewery bright and early, accom¬ 
panied by Drugan, the late owner. I wanted to 
settle things. After a long wait, I met both the 
collector and the superintendent. In Drugan’s 
presence these two men informed me that I had 


OF A NEW YORK 

been swindled and overreached by him and the 
agent, that it had been notorious that Drugan 
was head over heels in debt, and that his place 
was worth no more than the value of the stock 
— which 1 had found to be practically nothing. 
The whole matter struck them as a joke. Dru¬ 
gan stood by and said nothing. 

The whole transaction had been a fraud. 
Drugan's appointment to a city job — as he 
now frankly admitted — was a straight lie; the 
saloon-agents had cooperated with him in put¬ 
ting up this game on me; and for their services 
they had received, so Drugan told me, not the 
legitimate commission of five per cent, but a 
full half of my $1,000. The brewery had begun 
its sharp and tricky relations with me. 

Next, the brewery demanded a cash deposit of 
two hundred and fifty dollars. This, they told 
me, was to secure them against loss on their 
beer bills, their rent, and the license, the money 
for which they advance to the saloon-keeper. I 
gave them my check for two hundred and fifty 
dollars, but in addition had to pay them cash 
for my first order of ten half barrels, at the full 
rate of four dollars each. They sent the beer I 
had paid for, but did not give me a receipt for 
my two hundred and fifty dollars, a matter 
which caused me much trouble later. 

The Brewery and Its “Man Friday ” 

1 knew then, of course, what I know still better 
now, that the relations between the brewer and 
the saloon-keeper are close and complicated. In 
looking at a number of saloons, with an eye to 
purchase, I had found that every one of them was 
really owned by a brewer. The system under 
which 1 became the “Man Friday” of my brew¬ 
ery is practically universal in New York. The 
saloon is leased, the fixtures are supplied, and 
the license is paid by the brewer. 

When I “bought” my place, I discovered that 
the brewery held a mortgage of $4,000 on its 
fixtures. These fixtures, when they were new, 
had cost perhaps $2,000. The fact that the 
mortgage was so much larger than the value of 
the property it covered made it practically cer¬ 
tain it would never be paid off, and that the 
saloon would remain the property of the brew¬ 
ery. Another peculiar fact about this mort¬ 
gage was that it was a “dead one” — that is, I 
paid no interest directly on it. To all intents 
and purposes, the fixtures that it covered consti¬ 
tuted part of the brewery. I paid my rent to 
the brewery, but, although it was high for the 
locality — $t,ooo a year — I paid no more than 
was stipulated in the lease held by the brewery 
from the owner. The brewery cleared $200 a 
year from advancing my $1,000 license and re¬ 
ceiving back from me $25 a week for forty-eight 


SALOON-KEEPER 303 

weeks in the year. But the interest on the fix¬ 
tures was apparently charged in the profits on 
the beer, where it could undoubtedly be well 
cared for—since, 1 have good reason to believe, 
they made 350 per cent gross profit on the beer 
at the price they sold it to me. 

I take it, all things considered, that mine was 
a fair example of the average city saloon. 
Back of it, on hilly ground, rose a park, and 
in front of it was a plateau of rock, about 
sixty feet high, dotted with cottages and old- 
fashioned mansions. To right and left were 
residence streets of the humbler sort, and shops 
and stores. The saloon itself was cheerful and 
enticing enough, with its pretty plate-glass 
doors, its wide show windows, its bright mir¬ 
rors inside, its bar and lunch counters, its glit¬ 
tering glassware, its colored placards and 
cosy back rooms. The “family entrance” 
was on the side street, and anybody who 
wished could enter that way without being 
observed. 

A Saloon-keeper's Long Work Day 

The saloon, whether profitable or not, was‘mine, 
and there was nothing to do but run it. So I 
started at once upon the routine life of a saloon¬ 
keeper. One of the first things I discovered 
about the business — contrary to all my expec¬ 
tations— was the long hours and the absolute 
lack of leisure. My saloon, like all others in 
that vicinity, was opened at five in the morning 
by the bartender and porter. At eight, some¬ 
times later, 1 arrived from my home down town. 
And from eight in the morning until midnight 
or later I had to stay at my place. At one 
o'clock I sent away the bartender for his dinner 
and some sleep, until six, and during those five 
hours 1 tended bar myself. From six until mid¬ 
night, the bartender, as a rule, ran the place*. In 
the morning he and the porter were kept busy, 
cleaning the place, washing dishes and rinsing 
glasses, preparing the free lunch, serving it from 
eleven o'clock on, and waiting on early cus¬ 
tomers. There was a great deal of transient 
trade all through the daytime, especially from 
teamsters who passed by our place, and came in 
to get a drink or a cigar, while their horses got 
their fill of water at the trough outside. 

The bartender's working day at the saloon 
averaged, therefore, fourteen hours, from five in 
the morning until one in the afternoon, and from 
six in the afternoon till midnight; my own 
hours were even longer, usually sixteen. It was 
seldom earlier than one in the morning when I 
got home, and to be at my place again at eight 
gave me less than five hours of actual sleep. 
Not being used to such hours, they quickly 
began to tell on my general health. 


3o 4 


THE EXPERIENCE AND OBSERVATIONS 


The Difficult Problem of Bartender 

In the meantime, thematter of bartenders caused 
me anxiety. Tom Ryan, the bartender whom I 
took over with the saloon, seized the oppor¬ 
tunity afforded him by several unavoidable 
absences of mine, to drink in excess, so that, 
early in the afternoon on the day of my taking 
possession, I found him in a state of advanced 
intoxication. While in this condition, he 
knocked down a regular patron of the place. 
The latter retaliated, and Tom issued from the 
fight with a badly split nose. He was bleeding 
freely, and went to the hospital to have his 
wound sewed up and dressed. When he re¬ 
turned, he presented a rather weird and ludi¬ 
crous appearance. 

It became known at once in the neighborhood 
that I meant to discharge him, and during that 
afternoon and the next morning about thirty 
men applied for his place. It was a peculiarity 
of the district, apparently, that about every 
second man either was a bartender or had been 
one at some time in his life. Most of the appli¬ 
cants* had flattering testimonials to show, and 
almost every one made a point of assuring me 
that to engage him would bring his friends to 
my place as new customers. 

From the lot I picked out an experienced 
German bartender, Henry Kurz by name, who 
had been seventeen years in the business, was 
known to almost everybody in the neighbor¬ 
hood, and had already tended bar in my place 
for a former proprietor. He showed me “rec¬ 
ommends” of a high character. But none of 
them stated that he was honest. So I asked 
him: “Henry, are you honest?” 

He smiled a sad and derisive smile. “As 
honest as any bartender. The really honest 
bartender does not exist. You can take that 
from me.” 

Well, there seemed to be a certain rugged 
honesty in his dishonesty, so I hired him, and he 
took off his coat and went to work for me. 
This was Saturday night, and the place was 
thronged. At the bar they stood three deep. 
There was joy at Henry's arrival. They all 
assured me that I was a lucky man; that my 
fortune was made; that Henry was so popular 
my trade would be doubled. 

But from the first my receipts were smaller 
than they had been before his advent. I no¬ 
ticed, too, the disappearance of sundry bottles 
of French cognac. Two days later Henry got 
speechlessly drunk, so drunk that he fell down 
behind the bar, and the last time he was unable 
to rise. So I let him go, and only then, on tak¬ 
ing stock, discovered that Henry had been rob¬ 
bing me right and left. Whole demijohns of 


liquor, dozens of bottles of wine, whole boxes of 
cigars, half a dozen bottles of brandy, half my 
store of glassware, etc., were gone. He must 
have operated with an accomplice on the out¬ 
side. 

My third man, an elderly personage of mild 
manners, was honest but slow and incompetent. 
My fourth, George Shrady, proved in every way 
acceptable, and him I kept till the last. The only 
trouble with George was that he was too decent 
a fellow for the business. He was respectably 
connected, had filled a responsible position for 
years with an oil firm in New Jersey, until it had 
removed to California, and had drifted into this 
new line while unable to obtain work of higher 
grade. His grandfather, a retired wholesale 
butcher, had offered to set him up in business 
for himself — “but not a cent toward your 
present line,” the old man had said. Once a 
bartender, however, it seems difficult to get into 
any other business. 

The average weekly wages of a “barkeep” 
vary between ten and fifteen dollars; few get 
more, except in hotels and other especially good 
places. Too many of them succumb to the per¬ 
petual temptation, and become drunkards. 

This last remark also applies to the saloon 
porters, men who are employed to sweep the 
saloon and keep it and the rest of the premises 
in a clean and wholesome condition, prepare 
the lunch, run the lunch counter, tap the beer in 
the cellar, run errands, etc. 

I had a wonderful specimen of this genus in 
my place. He had been nicknamed “Rip Van 
Winkle,” because he possessed a strange fac¬ 
ulty for sleep. He could sleep anywhere, and it 
took him only a minute to drop off into the land 
of dreams. I have seen him sleep five hours at a 
stretch, seated in a chair. He was a harmless 
inebriate, — lazy, irresponsible, with a con¬ 
tinual craving for drink, but honest, clean- 
spoken, and with the remnants of respectability 
about him. He was a baldheaded man of 
forty-eight, but looked sixty. He had drifted 
away from his family. 

“ I'll make a hole in the water some day,” he 
used to say. He had no will-power left. I 
tried at first to reclaim him, but at last became 
convinced that there was no stamina there. 

A Narrow Margin of Profit 

After I had been running my place a few days, I 
began to make calculations as to whether it was a 
paying venture. I noticed that my money went 
faster than it came in. That, in a way, was but 
natural. A place with no stock needs restock¬ 
ing to begin with. I had to buy even such arti¬ 
cles as a broom, a feather duster, bar brushes, 
soap, sapolio, etc. There was nothing in the 



OF A NEW YORK SALOON-KEEPER 


place. The first week I had to buy fifty-four 
dollars’ worth of liquor alone. 1 figured out my 
expenses per week as follows: 


Beer.§100 

Liquor. 30 

License. 25 

Rent. 20 

Free Lunch. 15 

Wages. 15 

Soft Drinks. 5 

Cigars. 7 

Gas. 5 

Sundries. 10 

Total.$232 


Scanning the various items of this estimate, I 
could see that the best percentage of profit was 
made on the cigars. 1 paid only $1.50 and $2.30 
a hundred for those I sold for a nickel, and $3 
and $4 for those 1 sold for ten cents and fifteen 
cents. The next most profitable goods were 
liquor and “soft drinks.” 

In places like mine, the sale of beer—the 
biggest item on my list — is, contrary to the 
popular impression, scarcely remunerative. 
There are several reasons for this. The chief 
one is the enormous sale of pitcher beer. Often 
this amounts to two-thirds of the whole amount 
sold. Customers come in all day, and during 
the evening as well, with tin cans, big pitchers, 
or other vessels of huge size, and invariably call 
for a “pint.” And for the ten cents that is the 
price of a nominal pint, they expect their cans to 
be filled to the brim. They get much nearer a 
gallon than a pint, and what they pay for it does 
not even cover the cost to the saloon-keeper. 
Why, then, does he go on selling it at this rate? 
Because if he did not, he would practically lose 
the trade of these people in everything else. 
Their friends, too, would be persuaded to stay 
away and patronize some other place. Besides, 
there is much waste in drawing beer in glasses. 
My customers, like most workingmen, wanted 
as much beer for their money as they could get. 
Hence they generally demanded “schooners” 
at the bar, and they wanted no froth with their 
beer, taking exception if there was more than a 
finger’s breadth of it on top of the big glass. 
“Give me my foam on the bottom !” was a 
common expression. 

Thus it was that I made little money on the 
sale of my beer. And this even taking into ac- 
count the large rebate allowed by the brewer. 
Nominally he sells his beer at four dollars the 
half-barrel. But from his weekly beer bill the 
rebate is deducted. This rebate varies from 
twenty-five to fifty per cent. Its exact amount 
is a matter of agreement between the brewer and 
the saloon-keeper. To a good customer, one 
who stands well, politically and financially, with 


3°5 

the brewery, the rebate may be as large as fifty 
per cent. In my own case, the brewery col¬ 
lector informed me, the rebate would be thirty- 
two and one-half per cent, reducing my first 
week’s beer bill of about one hundred and forty 
dollars to less than one hundred dollars, yet 
leaving me, according to my calculation, hardly 
any profit whatever, so far as beer was con¬ 
cerned. Of course, in neighborhoods where 
they don’t “rush the growler,” and sell only 
small or medium-sized glasses over the bar, the 
conditions are reversed. In such places the 
profits on beer reach from one hundred to one 
hundred and fifty per cent. 

My customers, likewise, as a rule, took very 
large drinks of whisky — of a size about nine 
to a quart bottle. This grade of whisky cost 
me $1.90 per gallon, making the bottle stand me 
about forty cents. Nevertheless, this meant a 
profit of one hundred per cent, and over, to me. 
On the finer grades of whisky, brandy, gin, 
etc., my profits were larger. I gave my patrons 
what they called and paid for. That is, if 
they wanted Old Crow or Hunter whisky, they 
got it — at fifteen cents a drink. But many 
saloon-keepers fill the original bottles up with 
whisky costing them but $2.00 or so a gallon, 
and sell this for any brand of liquor that is 
called for. One of my competitors, for in¬ 
stance, told me in a burst of confidence that he 
had only one grade of whisky behind his bar 
and that only cost him $1.40 per gallon; he 
served it out at all sorts of prices from bottles 
bearing different labels. 

The Free-Lunch Question 

The free lunch was an expensive item. In my 
district only a free lunch could be served. No 
“business man’s lunch” at ten or fifteen cents 
would go there. I was put to a daily outlay of 
between two and three dollars. And there was 
very little immediate and direct return. I 
remember one noon when I had a particularly 
appetizing hot lunch, a Jewish peddler came in. 
He ordered a “schooner” of beer, at five cents. 
He objected to the foam on top; he wanted it 
all beer. Then he sat down at a table, and dur¬ 
ing the next hour he ate three platefuls of my 
free lunch, and read all the newspapers in my 
place. He was one of the few Hebrews I ever 
saw inside my saloon. 

The porter, under the bartender’s instruc¬ 
tions, usually cooks the hot lunch over a small 
gas range and slices the cold lunch, keeping the 
plates full and appetizing. The hot-lunch hours 
were from eleven to three. For this hot lunch 
we had a varying menu of pea soup, chowder, 
bean soup, lamb stew, beef stew, pork and 
beans, etc. There were some ten plates of cold 













THE EXPERIENCE AND OBSERVATIONS 


306 

lunch besides, consisting of bologna, liver sau¬ 
sage, spiced fish, pickled herring, smoked or 
shredded fish, sliced cabbage, onion, bread, 
pretzels, potato salad, radishes, etc. There is a 
big firm in Indiana which sends out, all over the 
East and Middle West, pork and beans in her¬ 
metically sealed gallon cans, at 90 cents a can, 
the minimum order being five dollars' worth; 
this can be very appetizingly prepared. Then 
there are several large firms in New York that 
make a specialty of supplying saloons with 
pretzels — at 60 cents for a large box, holding 
between two and three hundred. Other firms 
call and regularly furnish meat, sausages, etc. 
The saloon-keeper’s free lunch saves many a poor 
fellow from starvation in hard times. A man 
may have a whole meal, with a big glass of beer 
or a "soft drink,” for a single nickel. 

Why Saloons Are Open Sunday 

I had counted on average daily receipts of forty 
dollars. But I had been obliged to get rid of a 
number of the old patrons, because their be¬ 
havior was objectionable. Then about a score 
of customers had taken advantage of my in¬ 
experience and "hung me up” for considerable 
amounts. One man’s bill was nearly ten dol¬ 
lars; another’s almost seven; and several more 
owed between three and five dollars each. The 
first week I lost altogether about fifty dollars in 
this way, for these people soon left me and 
spent their cash elsewhere. Then a number of 
the best regular patrons lost their jobs. They 
continued to drink, but "on trust.” Hard 
times touch no other business man so quickly 
as the saloon-keeper. 

My expenses were, as I have shown, $232 a 
week. I had counted, as 1 said, on receipts 
averaging forty dollars a day. Consequently, 
if I ran six days l could not hope to make 
more than my expenses — if as much. I was 
compelled to run Sundays to live. 

A saloon week begins on Saturday, when 
the laboring men are paid, and from morning to 
midnight Saturday my bar was continually wet. 
But Sunday receipts average much more than 
those of any other day except Saturday, espe¬ 
cially in a German -1 rish district. On Sundays 
the "soft stuff” sales alone, to young fellows 
who had been playing tennis or baseball in the 
park close by or on the "boulevard,” totaled as 
high as the whole of Monday’s sales. Wednes¬ 
days and Thursdays I found to be the worst days, 
from a business point of view. On those 
days men and women would hand over nothing 
but pennies, nickels, and dimes, the larger coins 
and the bills being all gone. Vest pockets and 
stocking feet were being emptied of their 
"chicken feed”; the week’s earnings were ex¬ 


hausted. Then came Saturday and Sunday 
again, with fresh money. 

The Politician's Tithe 

So I found very soon that it was necessary to 
keep open on Sunday in order to make both 
ends meet. When I had first taken possession 
of my place, Drugan, the former owner, had led 
me into a quiet corner, and said, after a few 
preliminary remarks: "You will have to pay 
fifteen dollars a month for police protection. 
Then you won’t be interfered with on Sundays, 
unless there is a specific complaint against you, 
such as a letter, or unless some of the Central 
Office men should happen to butt in on their 
own account.” I expressed some curiosity on 
the subject, and Drugan explained who the man 
was that acted as go-between. I heard that he 
was to be relied upon, that is, that he would 
actually turn over the bribe, for fair division; 
and I heard what amounts my neighboring 
competitors had to pay. 

A day after my preliminary talk with Drugan, 
the go-between looked me up. He proved to be 
the secretary of a Democratic club. 

" But why should I keep open Sundays at 
all?” I ventured to ask him when he had 
opened communication. "I don’t much feel 
like risking arrests.” 

"Just as you please,” answered the man 
curtly. "Only, in that case, you might as well 
shut up your place at once. It wouldn’t 
pay.” 

This was confirmed, a few days later, by the 
collector of the brewery, and by a lawyer with a 
large experience in the saloon business, both of 
whom I talked with about the matter. Except 
in downtown business places, where conditions 
radically differed, a saloon-keeper, they main¬ 
tained, could only make his place go by keeping 
open on a Sunday. 

I learned about the captain of my precinct, 
and his methods of effecting excise arrests. 
One of his oldest and best officers lived near my 
saloon. This man said: "If you’re pinched, it 
will be either through a letter of complaint 
reaching the captain — and that is something 
you can’t guard against; or it will be through 
some Central Office men.” 

"Small consolation,” I remarked. 

I didn’t pay any bribe, however, neither did 
I join the Liquor Dealers’ Association (who at¬ 
tend for you to excise arrests), and on the second 
Sunday my bartender was arrested while serv¬ 
ing a drink of whisky to a "plain-clothes man.” 
He spent a very comfortable Sunday at the 
police station, playing pinocle with the officers 
in their own room, and next morning he was 
bailed out by a political friend. He was ar- 


OF A NEW YORK 


SALOON-KEEPER 


raigned before a magistrate, who held him in 
$500 bail, to answer at the Special Sessions. I 
understand these cases seldom come to trial. 

I learned something about the various meth¬ 
ods employed by saloon-keepers to protect 
themselves against Sunday arrests. One must 
be 11 liberal." There is one saloon-keeper in 
The Bronx — his place is at one of the most 
densely frequented corners — who is popularly 
supposed to pay $3,000 a year for “protec¬ 
tion.” He can well afford it, though, as his 
net income is reputed to be at least $50,000. 
His place is often crowded in the small hours of 
the morning with men and women in a hilarious 
condition. There is a sort of “cabaret” per¬ 
formance in one room, where risque songs are 
in vogue. 

1 was advised to see the district leader of 
Tammany Hall about the matter of protection. 
It is well to “keep on the blind side of him,” 
I was told. To join two or three of the semi¬ 
political, semi-social Democratic clubs in the 
neighborhood is another advisable step. The 
secretaries of several of these asked, and ob¬ 
tained, initiation fees of me, and then urged 
me to buy some five dollars' worth of tickets for 
entertainments planned in the near future. In 
exchange, they promised to “look after” me in 
the way of police protection, and to furnish bail 
in case of excise arrests. 

For a number of reasons, however, I made up 
my mind to keep my place closed hereafter on 
Sundays, even if to do so should spell heavy loss. 

A Hold-Up by the "Graveyard Gang ” 

My experience, however, was not to be con¬ 
fined to a political “hold-up.” I soon had an 
experience with the genuine article. During 
my first week as a saloon-keeper, 1 left my place 
a little after midnight to take the elevated 
railroad about two blocks away. As I stepped 
clear of the buildings adjoining my saloon, into 
a comparatively dark spot, two fellows rushed 
out upon me, and while one pinned my arms 
behind me with incredible swiftness and skill, 
his pal went through my pockets. Apparently 
they had been watching me through the win¬ 
dows of the saloon, for there were no false 
moves. The second man dived instantly for 
the left-hand hip-pocket in my frousers, and 
pulled out the forty-three dollars I had just put 
there—The receipts of the business for that day. 
Then both took to their heels, and were lost in 
the darkness of the little park near by. The 
whole thing had not taken more than ten min¬ 
utes. There was nothing for me to do; it was so 
dark that I could give no accurate description of 
the robbers to the police. Yet it was fairly cer¬ 
tain that the robbery was the work of members 


3°7 

of one of the two gangs of young criminals who 
lived in that neighborhood. 

One of these, known as the Graveyard Gang, 
has its hangout on top of a steep bluff that 
overlooks the neighborhood, from which point 
of vantage the gang can watch the land below 
and the passersby. They know all the people 
in the neighborhood and how much money they 
are likely to have in their pockets, their pay¬ 
days, etc. Four of the members of this gang, 
the Rawlins brothers, I counted at first among 
the patrons of my saloon. Two of these boys 
had already, I found out, “done time” in Sing 
Sing. Their parents (of Irish birth) were quite 
respectable people. 

I soon learned that my case was not excep¬ 
tional. I heard of several hold-ups during my 
short stay in the neighborhood. The second 
gang, mostly half-grown boys, with a youth 
named Billy McCoy for leader, are likewise a 
terror to peaceable citizens. One evening, 
while on my way to a restaurant for supper, I 
heard the details of their latest exploit. They 
had borne a spite against a Hebrew peddler. So 
they fell upon him, knifed him in various places, 
and inflicted painful and dangerous injuries 
from which the man has not yet recovered. If 
he does, he will be maimed and a cripple all his 
life. He was carried into a bakery the very 
moment I happened to pass, bleeding profusely. 
A great crowd had collected. “It’s Billy Mc¬ 
Coy's gang,” somebody said. This happened 
but a stone’s throw from the elevated station. 
These things are not only common, they are 
accepted as a part of the daily life of the sec¬ 
tion, and no adequate steps are taken to do 
away with such conditions. 

The Saloon-keeper and His Revolver 

The police afforded me and my place abso¬ 
lutely no protection. The men patrolling my 
beat rarely showed themselves until late at 
night, and then only to partake of a friendly 
glass at my expense. One night, when a terrific 
storm was brewing, we were just on the point of 
closing up, when in stepped the man from our 
beat, smiling all over his ruddy, handsome face. 
A moment later the storm broke loose, and rain 
began to fall in bucketfuls. The officer, secure 
against intrusion, took off his coat and sat 
down near the bar — drinking, smoking, and en¬ 
joying the blatant tunes that came screeching 
from the phonograph. 

After I had been robbed in the way described 
above, knowing that I would get no adequate 
police protection, I consulted a lawyer as to 
whether I had not better exercise a saloon-keep¬ 
er’s privilege and carry a revolver to protect 
myself. The lawyer advised against it. He 




3 o8 THE EXPERIENCE 

said I was not quick and " husky ” enough to 
contend with these young criminals. They 
would put a bullet in me before 1 could draw 
my weapon, and if hunted down would plead 
self-defence. He counselled me instead to have 
k body-guard. So I arranged with my bar¬ 
tender, and he saw me every night to the foot 
of the elevated station stairs. This bartender, 
like nearly every other bartender, had carried 
a weapon ever since he had been in the business; 
and he told me of several instances in which 
it had saved his life. I had nothing but a 
baseball bat behind my bar for protection. I 
always stayed at my saloon with George and 
the porter until closing time, and never ven¬ 
tured out alone after dark — a sad commentary 
on the safety of life and property in that part 
of New York. 

A “Good Drinking Population” 

The population in the neighborhood of my 
saloon was what is technically called in the 
saloon business “a good drinking one.” It was 
made up of Irish and Germans in about equal 
parts, with a good-sized Italian section, and a 
few Americans thrown in. There were scarcely 
any Jews. Both Pye, the sales-agent, and 
Drugan, the late owner of the saloon, had dwelt 
on this last fact, saying that Jews were no drink¬ 
ers and therefore “ N. G. for our trade.” There 
were a large number of grownup descendants of 
the Germans, Irish, and Italians, and on the 
whole I found them even better drinkers than 
their elders. Certainly they were better spend¬ 
ers. 

When I saw the saloon for the first time, that 
is, when Drugan had stocked it up with bogus 
customers for my inspection, it was well filled 
with men of prosperous appearance and com¬ 
paratively quiet manners. The actual patron¬ 
age of the saloon I found to be of a very different 
class. An overwhelming majority of the people 
living near me were workingmen—day laborers, 
teamsters, furniture-movers, and mechanics; 
and of the last named many, when employed, 
earned high wages. But there was also an ad¬ 
mixture of the criminal element, either living in 
the neighborhood, or "hanging out” in certain 
retired nooks near at hand. 

Being German-born myself, and all my life 
accustomed to the moderate use of beer and 
wines, I had never had much sympathy with the 
movements against saloons and drinking. But 
here in my place, dealing mostly with men and 
women of either German or Irish blood, I was 
confronted by conditions that I had never sus¬ 
pected ; in fact, could scarcely have believed pos¬ 
sible. For to me the drinking habits of most of 
my patrons appeared frightful. Intemperance, 


lND observations 

intoxication pursued to the point of senseless 
ness — and this not once in a while, but fre¬ 
quently or daily— was common. I think I am 
not overstating the fact when 1 say that my un¬ 
married patrons spent about seventy-five per 
cent of their earnings in drink. Among the 
married men there were wide differences, largely 
owing, I daresay, to the greater or lesser re¬ 
straining influence of wives and children; but 
even the married men, I believe, spent an aver¬ 
age of at least twenty-five per cent of their 
wages in this way, and many of them much 
more. 

Four Quarts of Whisky a Day 

Some of my regular patrons habitually con¬ 
sumed their four quart bottles of whisky a day, 
not reckoning the beer, etc., that they drank 
besides. One-, two-, or three-bottle men I 
counted by the score among my regular cus¬ 
tomers. And it seemed to me that the charac¬ 
ter of their toil made hardly any difference. 
There were, for instance, many marble-cutters 
living in my district. Their hours were not 
long; their labor was not exhausting; their pay 
was very good. Yet nearly all of them had 
dissipated habits. On the other hand, there 
were hard-working teamsters, furniture-movers, 
carpenters, bricklayers, etc., who were compara¬ 
tively temperate. 

There were curious types among them. One 
bricklayer, a man earning good wages, on com¬ 
ing home Saturdays, always provided liberally 
for his family. Then, his mind freed of that re¬ 
sponsibility, he would issue forth, dressed in his 
best clothes, on a "glorious drunk.” He 
would return home late Sunday night or early 
Monday morning, with not a cent left. This 
was his practice, regular as clockwork. When 
intoxicated, this man button-holed everybody, 
paid for drinks for his auditors, and told ramb¬ 
ling stories that had neither beginning nor end. 
By his baleful eye he held men spell-bound, like 
the Ancient Mariner, for hours and hours. 

Then there was a teamster, Fred Reynolds by 
name. He spent all his wages on drink. His 
weekly earnings probably averaged twenty-five 
dollars; on Sunday nights he never ha*d a cent 
left. His clothes hung about him in tatters and 
he wore neither socks nor underclothes. 

A little German there was, a cripple, pale and 
thin. This man was an expert piano-mover, 
despite his dwarfish size. He was always 
drunk or half drunk; always smiling, chipper, 
and in good humor. He drank like a fish, 
oceans of beer, and never seemed to eat any¬ 
thing. 

A painter, another German, was a regular 
customer. He also was very good-natured, and 


OF A NEW YORK SALOON-KEEPER 


never quarreled. But he would not tolerate 
interference with his drinking habits. One boss 
he had had, an American, who had objected to 
his drinking during working hours. “Well/' 
said Fritz, “ I am not your slave, and if I cannot 
drink when I feel like it, I'll stop work.” And 
he did. 

As a rule, they fiercely resented interference, 
even when it was manifestly for their own good. 
It made them violent and abusive. There was 
one man, for example, Joe Rumpf, of German 
parentage, a good fellow at bottom, a very hard 
worker, and of extraordinary strength, who had 
married an Irish wife with whom he lived very 
unhappily. The principal cause of their dis¬ 
agreements seemed to be a “star boarder,” who 
had aroused his jealousy. The couple were 
Catholics, and a divorce was out of the ques¬ 
tion. When his domestic difficulties began to 
weigh on Joe’s mind — as they generally did on 
Saturday nights, after liberal indulgence — he 
would pull out an ugly-Iooking dirk and 
threaten to do for the whole family, “star 
boarder” and all. In this mood, he madly re¬ 
sented any sort of interference. He drank until 
he fell down like a log, sleeping off his stupor in 
some corner of the saloon. 

It interested me to study drunkenness in its 
various stages, as it presented itself to me 
among my patrons. Many became quarrel¬ 
some, pugnacious, boisterous, vindictive; others 
despondent, melancholy, talking of their 
wrongs. Of course, racial traits have much to 
do with that. Drink accentuates them. Some 
of my patrons became coarse in their talk and 
rude in their habits when drunk, while others, 
particularly those of German blood, became 
sentimental. With a very large proportion of 
these men to drink in excess was their only 
recreation, their only pleasure, from week’s end 
to week’s end. 

From my saloon experience I judge that this 
class of our population differs from those better 
placed and better educated chiefly in its lack of 
restraint. 

A Degenerate Second Generation 

One of the most surprising and unpleasant ob¬ 
servations I made concerned the second genera¬ 
tion— the adult American-born sons of Irish 
or German fathers. These men, as a rule, not 
only shared the drinking habits of the latter, but 
usually outdid them. Besides that, many of 
them were not only more dissipated than their 
elders, but were also very frequently shiftless, 
indolent, and unreliable. And not a few of 
them were criminally inclined, even when their 
fathers were strictly honest and respectable. 

I found this to be the case, too, among the 


3°9 

young Italian-Americans and Jewish-Americans 
of the second generation. While the old folks 
still remembered their early religious teaching, 
and felt its restraining influence, these influ¬ 
ences, in the majority of cases, seemed to be 
entirely removed from the younger men. 
Scarcely any of them belonged to any church. 
They scorned, almost without exception, the 
faith and practices of their elders; they scoffed 
at every form of worship; and they ridiculed 
those of their number who gave way, on these 
points, to home influence. A number of them 
seemed to me to be wholly devoid of moral 
sense. As a rule, their parents had very little 
control over them. 

Here are a few illustrations, taken from among 
my younger patrons. Johnny Ackerman was 
the son of an Irish mother and German father; 
a handsome boy, only nineteen. He earned 
good wages as a plasterer, averaging about 
twenty-five dollars a week. But he was very 
dissipated, and spent his earnings on drink and 
amusement, working often but two or three 
days out of the six. Saturdays and Sundays he 
usually drank hard, frequently consuming three 
bottles of cheap whisky at one sitting, till he 
dropped senseless. Although still a youth, his 
health was already completely undermined. He 
defied his parents when they remonstrated with 
him, telling them that he would “cut out for 
himself” if they interfered with his pleasures. 

One of the best of my patrons, but likewise a 
queer type in some respects, was Pat Skelly, 
born of Irish parents. He was a widower, with 
two pretty little daughters, to whom he was 
always gentle, even when in his fiercest mood. 
He was an excellent marble-cutter, making his 
six or seven dollars a day. He frequently went 
“on a spree,” though, and then for days and 
days he would do nothing but drink, drink, 
drink. At such times his handsome face, orig¬ 
inally smiling and tanned, assumed a brick-red 
hue, and his fine, dark eyes stood out, lobster¬ 
like and scowling. And the more he drank the 
more contentious he grew. 

Another specimen .of the second generation 
was Jack Fuddihy, who held some sinecure 
under the city government. Having nothing 
to occupy his mind or body, he became a 
chronic sot, kanging around the saloons of the 
district when out of money, waiting Micawber- 
like for something — or rather somebody — to 
turn up at the bar, and guzzling innumerable 
small beers and big whiskies between his rising 
(at ten in the morning) and saloon-closing time. 
Twenty-four hours after drawing his semi¬ 
monthly pay he would have not a red cent left. 

Then there was Drugan, Mike Drugan. 
Only thirty-five, he had been bartender for 


THE EXPERIENCE AND OBSERVATIONS 


310 

fourteen years, and for ten years of that time 
had never drawn a sober breath. He was mar¬ 
ried and had several small children. His regu¬ 
lar daily allowance of whisky was three quart 
bottles — the beer, wine, etc., do not count. 
This man’s face was of an ashen hue, and the 
more he drank the grayer it got. Yet he was 
always able to talk, to draw beer, to mix 
drinks, to count out change, and to find his way 
home to bed. 

The “Honest Workingman ” as Seen in 
a Saloon 

In my experience with the workingman and 
mechanic, I became unpleasantly aware that my 
estimate had flattered him. “Honest” is a rela¬ 
tive term; one cannot expect a very delicate 
perception of honesty from men whose rude 
natural instincts have never been “toneddown,” 
so to speak. But here, in my numberless con¬ 
versations before or behind the bar, I found that 
“honesty” was laughed at and derided. It was 
always the clever rascal that was praised and 
admired. When they commented on newspaper 
stories, their sympathies nearly always, it seemed 
to me, were on the wrong side —on the side op¬ 
posed to truth and justice. Their moral stand¬ 
ards were, from their own admissions, deplor¬ 
ably low. I don’t want to be understood as 
meaning that there were no exceptions. There 
were, notably among the men of the first genera¬ 
tion (that is, those born across the water); but 
these were, after all, only exceptions. 

Thus, I was astonished to find, even among 
those of my patrons who were evidently well-dis¬ 
posed toward me, that they could not find it in 
their hearts to condemn the swindle that had 
been practised on me by Drugan and the ag£nt 
who sold me the saloon. They smiled and said 
it was a “smart” thing to do. Likewise, I got 
nothing but good-natured banter for allowing 
myself to be “hung up” by some of my patrons. 

“ Drugan would never have let them do that to 
him. He would have gone after them with a 
big club, and would have knocked the stuffing 
out of them, but he would have made them 
pay.” 

This is what one of my stanchest adherents 
said to me, and then he urged me to do the 
same. That the mere act of cheating a man, of 
failing to discharge an honestly incurred debt, 
is dishonest, I could not convince my friend, 
whose morality was no higher than that of the 
district where he had passed all his life. 

My patrons were not choice in their lan¬ 
guage. They used habitually terms and 
phrases that elsewhere would not be permissi¬ 
ble. But they were so used to them that they 
were scarcely aware, I think, of their original 


meaning. With all this loose talk going on, it 
was rather astonishing to me that my patrons, 
one and all, were respectful to me, at least so far 
as words went. They addressed me indiscrim¬ 
inately as “Pap,” “Pappy,” “ Doc,” “Colonel,” 
“Boss”; but never a word of abuse did they 
give me. 

The Saloon-keeper in the Hearts of the 
People 

What place does the saloon-keeper hold in the 
hearts of this class of the population? Speak¬ 
ing from my experience, a very large one indeed. 
When a saloon changes hands, the news travels 
with incredible speed. Within a few hours the 
whole district knew about me, and I was dis¬ 
cussed at every fireside in all my bearings and 
dimensions. And one question trembled on 
every lip: “Is he an easy mark?” The reply 
must have been, on the whole, in the affirmative, 
for my popularity was at once established. Half 
the population, I think, must have been lying 
awake nights, trying to solve the problem of 
“how to hang me up.” Having successfully 
“worked Pap”—as they called me most fre¬ 
quently — they must have spread the news of 
this “easy mark” among their friends, even in 
far-away parts of the city. 

A couple of teamsters came up to my place all 
the way from down town on a Sunday evening. 
They did not have a penny between them, but 
looked to me not only to supply them with their 
Sunday beer, whisky, and cigars, but even 
with carfare to return home. I had never be¬ 
fore set eyes on either of them, and when they 
told me that it was Jack Rawlins (one of my 
most undesirable patrons) who had told them 
about me and my place, I was not prepossessed 
in their favor. But they felt heartily and truly 
aggrieved when I refused to meet their expecta¬ 
tions. 

There is a sort of familiarly affectionate feel¬ 
ing for the saloon-keeper among these people. 
He has often been called the “poor man’s 
friend,” and his place the “poor man’s club,” 
and I must say there is a kernel of truth in this. 

All the drinkers at my place, with very few 
exceptions indeed, opened their hearts to me 
and George, the “barkeep,” even when not en¬ 
couraged to do so. They would tell their 
secrets, their troubles, their entanglements, 
their domestic woes, their afflictions. And the 
drunker they got, the more confidential they 
became. 

There were many calls for charity. When¬ 
ever a case of distress became known in my 
neighborhood, it was to my place that the first 
appeal was made. I recall one pitiable and 
very deserving, case. It was that of a piano^ 


OF A NEW YORK SALOON-KEEPER 


maker, a German of middle age, with a large 
family depending on him. This man had for¬ 
merly earned large wages, but had been out of 
work for eleven months. His savings went 
first, next one valuable after another was 
pawned or sold, and then came absolute want, 
and on top of it sickness in the family. A num¬ 
ber of my patrons responded quickly and nobly 
to an appeal for help, and there was one more 
happy family that Saturday night. 

A Family Drunk for Thirty Cents 

A great deal of “rushing the growler” was 
done at my place, and all over the district, in 
fact. 1 had occasion to observe the evil effects 
of this drinking by women and children all 
through the day and evening. True, it is an 
inexpensive mode of becoming intoxicated. On 
thirty cents a whole family of topers can become 
drunk, for with twenty cents for beer and ten 
cents for cheap whisky they obtain as much as 
their husbands or sons for many times that 
amount. Many of the women that came with 
huge cans to be filled, bore not only the stamp 
of dissipation, but of degradation as well. And 
with their children it would be worse. It was 
hard for me to understand how these mothers 
could send their young daughters for beer. 
Often I would turn girls away, telling them to 
explain to their mothers that children could not 
be served with drink in a saloon. Then they, 
would be quite mortified, saying they were no 
longer children, which perhaps was the truth. 

One woman, with an appearance of some re¬ 
finement still clinging to her, came regularly 
every afternoon to get her allowance of liquor — 
twenty-five cents' worth of Old Crow. I in¬ 
quired about her and found that she was the 
wife of one of my patrons. So I spoke to him 
about it in confidence; but he became very 
angry, telling me it was none of my business 
what his wife drank, as long as she paid for it. 
Poor woman, the stamp of the drunkard was 
already on her delicate frame. 

Once for all I had instructed both my bar¬ 
tender and porter to refuse to serve out drink to 
any children that came to the saloon door, and 
so far as my observations went this order was 
obeyed. It was not my way of thinking alone 
that made me strict on this point; the law, as 
enforced by the Gerry Society, is severe in this 
respect, and offences are punishable not only by 
a large fine, but by jail. But the behavior and 
the words of most of the children who were thus 
refused showed me that elsewhere they did not 
meet with the same cold reception. And nearly 
all these children, girls even more than boys, 
saw absolutely no wrong in venturing into a 
saloon frequented by men who were by no means 


3 11 

choice in their language. To them the saloon 
was a place of delight. They would linger 
around my doors all day and all evening, trying 
to catch glimpses of the inside. 

Can a Saloon-keeper Discourage 
Drinking? 

I made it a point not to encourage my patrons 
to drink, merely as a matter of principle. Of 
course, many saloon-keepers act differently. 
What the view of my district was on this point, 

I discovered soon enough. 1 remember the case 
of two strangers—both just in from the far 
West — who dropped in one afternoon. They at 
once began to spend money liberally. One of 
them, a man of about fifty-five, baldheaded but 
very active, pulled out a big wad of five and ten 
dollar bills, and declared his intention of leaving 
this roll at my place. He invited everybody to 
drink with him and was in that stage of intoxica¬ 
tion when a man becomes careless of money and 
does not keep track of it. He handed me a ten 
dollar bill in payment of his first round, and 
when I gave him his change, would not accept 
it, swearing it was not his. He proposed cham¬ 
pagne, called for the best in the house, and was 
with difficulty persuaded by me, after a while, 
to stop this reckless waste of money. I heard 
one of my regular patrons characterize my con¬ 
duct as that of a fool. He spoke to me aside. 
“You must humor these two,” he said, in a re¬ 
proachful tone. “Let them spend their money 
here. If they leave, they are sure to spend it 
elsewhere.” Certainly the business offered 
never-ending problems and temptations. 

I and 2,500 Others Go Out of Business 

But I had no intention of continuing in the 
business. After I had been in my saloon only a 
few days, I made up my mind that its patronage 
was not of a kind I wanted. I then notified the 
brewery of my intention to sell the place, at a 
sacrifice, to somebody better qualified and more 
accustomed to deal with the particular class of 
people from which my customers were recruited. 

I acted frankly and honestly toward the brew¬ 
ery people. I asked them to assist me in dis¬ 
posing of the place, since I understood that a 
large brewery has always some men on hand for 
such a purchase. But the brewery took no 
notice of me. 

In the meanwhile I was having an unpleasant 
experience of another kind with the brewery 
people. They had, as I have already said, re¬ 
quired an advance deposit of two hundred and 
fifty dollars from me. They not only did not 
treat me fairly in matters connected with this 
deposit, but they neglected, after promising 
several times to do so, to give me a proper re- 


312 THE EXPERIENCE OF A b 

ceipt for my money. Finally, I consulted a 
lawyer who has an extensive acquaintance with 
saloons. This lawyer, after considerable effort, 
got the brewery at last to give me a receipt 
for my deposit. But even this receipt was 
couched in such general terms that it meant 
practically nothing. 

“ Is this the kind of receipt you give your cus¬ 
tomers ?” asked my lawyer. “A receipt stating 
merely that this two hundred and fifty dollars 
was received by you ‘on account of the place 

on-Street?' Why, that engages you to 

nothing. If my client accepts this as a valid re¬ 
ceipt, his two hundred and fifty dollars are 
gone." 

“Yes, that is the only kind of receipt we give 
under such circumstances," said the brewer. 
“ It's our way of doing business." 

The outcome of it all was that I instructed 
my lawyer to begin suit against the brewery for 
the recovery of my two hundred and fifty dol¬ 
lars. Then it turned out that the brewery 
made a claim to this money of mine on the plea 
that it must go to pay for the rent of the saloon 
after I should quit it. 

I had now made up my mind that whatever 
happened, I would not go into the business for 
another year, consequently I informed the brew¬ 
ery that I should vacate the saloon, at the 
latest, by midnight of September 30, the date 
when my license would expire. The effort of 
the brewery to hold me for the rent, my lawyer 
informed me, was entirely unwarranted, inas¬ 
much as I had signed no lease nor any other 
papers. 

In the meantime I made extraordinary efforts 
to dispose of my saloon to somebody else, even 
by sacrificing half or two-thirds of my purchase 
price. But I was unsuccessful. All over 
Greater New York saloons were closing up at 
this time; there were consequently numberless 
chances of getting hold of such places at one’s 
own figure, or at no expense at all. 

As the last of September approached, the 
number of saloons known to be going out of 
business increased rapidly. Hard times had 
struck the town the past year, hundreds of thou- 


NEW YORK SALOON-KEEPER 

a sands of breadwinners were out of employment, 
h and the saloon-keeper was first of all affected, 
t, because it is on the laboring man that he has 
>t chiefly to depend for his custom. On the night 
is of September 30 there were closed, in Greater 
it New York, no less than 2,500 saloons of every 
kind out of a total of about q,ooo. One single 
>- brewery that I know of lost three hundred cus- 
g tomers that night. The brewery that supplied 
■s me lost one hundred and fifty, 
e For one of that one hundred and fifty I can 
o say that when the load of worry, disgust, and 
i- financial loss that had pressed down upon him, 
e through his short experience of nineteen days as 
a saloon-keeper, finally rolled off his shoulders, 
e he felt as if he had got rid of the Old Man of 
r. the Sea. 

I had been drawn into the business by a 
d gross form of conspiracy to defraud, yet I have 
»r no remedy — so I have been informed by the 
l- district attorney — because of the extreme dif- 
y ficulty of getting convincing evidence in this 
a kind of case. I consequently have lost my first 
n $1,000. The brewery now holds a good share 
of my $250 deposit to cover an imaginary obli- 
x gation which I never assumed, though I may se- 
>r cure this eventually by lawsuit. And I have lost 
utterly, of course, the credit given to dishonest 
e customers during the course of my business, 
e I found in my short experience that it was 
>f almost impossible for me to make money de- 
:r cently in the business. I lost patronage be- 
>- cause I refused to allow my saloon to become a 
:r hang-out for criminals, and a place of assigna¬ 
tion; I lost a big source of revenue because I 
s refused to encourage hard drinking among my 
n patrons; and finally I lost all possibility of a 
e margin of profit by refusing to pay politicians a 
x monthly bribe to break the law. 
t There may be, and doubtless there are, sa- 
s loons in this and other cities, where it is possible 
s for a man to own and run one and yet retain his 
self-respect; saloons frequented by respectable 
e and well-bred persons. But, to judge from 
•f what I have heard in conversation with salcon- 
d keepers of the better sort during my experience 
1- and since, such places must be very scarce. 







THE CASE OF HENRI PASSALAIGUE 


BY 

VIOLA ROSEBORO’ 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. B. MASTERS 


D R. ESTEY had but just arrived in 
i New York, the night was young, 
I and both father and son were ripe 
f for talk. 

Ben was a lawyer, a deputy as¬ 
sistant now in the District Attorney's office. 
The father had come up from the Southern 
town where they both were born, and where he 
had practised medicine for thirty years. After 
he had summarized the news of the neighbor¬ 
hood and mentioned rather than delivered the 
messages with which he was charged, the young 
man's affairs, his interests, the work of his office 
and the powers it was “up against," for a time 
held the field ; and then, as some instanced crime 
made the transitional link, Ben broke into his 
own talk with a demand to hear about Henri 
Passalaigue’s case. 

“It's a mighty unintelli¬ 
gible history I’ve gathered 
so far," said he. 

Passalaigue, a modernized 
Louisiana Creole, had been 
Ben’s classmate at Washing¬ 
ton and Lee, and Ben had 
liked him well. It was 
thanks to Ben that he had 
“settled" in the Esteys’ 
home town. Passalaigue, 
too, was a lawyer. His 
immediate need of a prac¬ 
tice was great, for he was 
the only son of his mother, 
and she was now a widow 
and dependent upon him. 

Ben had expected to go 
home to live; when he saw 
his fighting chance for a 
foothold in New York, he 
turned over to Passalaigue 
all that was alienable in his 
earlier prospects. 

“ Tell me all you know," 
said Ben, in his slow, strong 


way, “and I’ll get something with some sense 
to it somehow." He wiped the sudden sweat 
from his pain-knitted brow. 

The doctor, stout, strong, grizzled and 
weather-beaten, sat his chair as if at ease in the 
saddle — a country doctor who knew his world. 

“'Unintelligible’—you may well say it. I 
reckon so, I reckon so. I wouldn’t try to 
write you anything of inwardness — impossible. 
This thing ramifies. It comes back first to the 
way old Saunders owns the town, and then to 
Pauline Maybury’s nature, and to a lot of other 
more or less remote things. You’ve been gone 
so long you don’t know how the town lies in Old 
Man Saunders’ hand. I didn’t wake up to it 
fully myself till the dirty shame of this busi¬ 
ness drove it into my vitals. 

“Henri didn’t care a 
whoop for Pauline May- 
bury — Pauline Saunders; 
all he wanted was to keep 
away from her all he de¬ 
cently could. I know what 
I’m talking about. You 
know I had him brought 
to the house when he broke 
his leg last year. Your 
mother could tell you how 
Pauline came around then, 
and Henri would take to 
his bed, after he was up 
and about, to get out of 
seeing her. He w r as mighty 
nice about it; never meant 
to give a sign of anything 
but appreciation of Mrs. 
Wiley Saunders’ kindness. 
He was like Don Quixote 
when he says, 'A gentleman 
may not always be amorous, 
but he is always grateful’; 
and the gratitude of both 
gentlemen was more theo¬ 
retical, you can take my 

3'3 



HENRI PASSALAIGUE 


THE CASE OF HENRI PASSALAIGUE 




word for it, than emotional. Not that Pauline 
made any scandalous show of herself. She 
never did — why should she begin now? 
But she was bored with Wiley, and she 
wanted Henri to amuse her; that was plain 
to your mother and me back then. And 
Henri not only wanted to keep out the 
way; he didn’t care anything about her/' 

"He was engaged to a girl up in 
Virginia. I never saw a man so hard 
hit. She—” Ben’s teeth set hard be¬ 
fore he went on in a voice held firmly 
matter-of-fact. " She was the kindest, 
merry-hearted, faithful brick of a girl 
in seven States. I used to think even 
Henri didn’t deserve such luck.” 

The doctor gave a wordless sound 
charged with pitying pain. He stared 
into the grate silently before he sighed 
and said: "I didn’t know that. I 
want to hear about her some time, 

Ben. Now I’ll go on with my story. 

There might be a worse story for that 
girl, son. 

"You’ve been away so much for so 
long, I reckon you don’t know much 
really about Pauline, either. I re¬ 
member Matt Maybury in his prime, 
and there’s plenty of her grandfather 
in Pauline; plenty of old Matt worked 
around and made over into a ‘good’ 
woman; for, mind you, that’s Pauline’s 
class, and she never in her life had 
any notion of slipping out of it. She’s 
a kind of woman I’ve seen oftener than 
Eve ever read of ’em. 

"From the time she was fifteen she 
was always what you can call in love, 
first with one chap and then with an¬ 
other; and from the time she was 


fifteen she was always keen at taking care of 
herself — every way. She’d cure one love 
affair with another, like she was doing it on 
my prescription. Her head was always as cool 
and alert as a good fencer’s, and until she 
and Wiley got through their regulation honey¬ 
mooning she’d never for years been without the 
tittervating excitement of being made love to — 
being made love to, mind you, by some one 
she was interested in. That was her epicurean 
requirement. With those soft, caressing man¬ 
ners of hers, and the rest of her equipment 
(though I never thought she was as good- 
looking, really, as half a dozen other girls of 
her crop — did you?), anyhow, when she fas¬ 
tened her blue eyes on a man, she usually got 
his scalp, or an imitation of it, sooner or later, 
and she didn’t mind its coming later; she had 
old Matt’s liking for the chase. And all the 
time she minded her P’s and Q’s, and the cold¬ 
blooded egotism that even bad men cursed for 
its cruelty in Matt Maybury showed up in her 
as basic virtue shining through all her little 
coquetries. And, since the world wags the 
way it does, it was a working substitute any¬ 
how, and ambitious mothers had reason for 
pointing her out to their daughters as an 





VIOLA ROSE BORO’ 


3 J 5 


example — she was the kind of belle they ought 
to be. 

"1 used to like to watch her when she was 
around with your sister Anne. She was always 
coming to our house to dances, when Anne was 
at home. 

“ 1 reckon she was in love with Wiley, too, 
for a while. He was getting rich and it was 
time for her to marry; but she 
wasn’t the woman to entirely 
cross her own tastes in a hus¬ 
band; I'll say that much for 
her. 

“To marry a Maybury was 
a fine thing for Wiley, but it’s 
reasonable to suppose he got 
more than that out of it, too. 

And then young egotists like 
that think they are cheated 
when they’ve eaten their lolly- 
pop pleasures up. I'd bet a 
pretty that Pauline anyhow 
pities herself for a tragedy 
heroine because she’s tired of 
Wiley. 

“I’m long-winded, Ben, but 
talk with you doesn’t come 
often these days, and an old 
doctor who stays all his life in 
one town gets to considering 
things too curiously to tell ’em 
off in a word, when he talks at 
all. Thanky, son. 

“Now, about Henri and the 
Saunders crew. Since the old 
man got hold of the Curtis 
plantations and built the cot¬ 
ton factory, as I tell you, he’s 
owned the town. The bank is 
under his thumb. He financed 
the Wilsons in all their business, and he holds 
mortgages on some of the finest property in the 
country. Even when he hasn’t got a man’s 
fortune in the hollow of his hand, there’s a big 
chance there are strings to it he can manage to 
jerk easy enough. 

“When Passalaigue had been in town a year, 
Buck Saunders was admitted to the bar. His 
dad knows Buck hasn’t sense enough to be a 
lawyer but get him an able partner and it 
would be as good a way as another to take care 
of him. They thought Henri was just the tim¬ 
ber for them. They offered him the partner¬ 
ship, and when he wouldn’t take it, poor and 
new as he was, he stung Buck’s vanity to 
venom. Henri talked to me about it. It 
meant doing all the work and sharing every¬ 
thing else, even authority, with Buck. And a 
heap worse than all that, it meant being owned 


body and boots by the Saunders. It would 
have made a cat laugh to look at Henri, the 
high-headed straightness of him, and think of 
him licking Saunders’ boots. It was a big op¬ 
portunity, of course, but he never could have 
made it work. It was his bad luck they ever 
made him the offer. His refusal set them all 
against him. He had made a standing for him¬ 
self, and he could scrape along 
as his own man, with some 
show for betterment in the 
future, in spite of the Saunders’ 
interests. But, though he was 
as good a lawyer as you, Ben, 
and a better speaker than 
you’ll ever be, it was no such 
show as you’d have had if you’d 
stood in his shoes. He was a 
solitary unit there in a place 
where half the town is related 
by blood or marriage, and the 
other half tied together, even 
sworn enemies, by old habit 
and the same ways. 

“Henri looked like one of us 
all right, but he wasn’t. He 
was new, and then, he was 
different, too. Why, the way 
he could talk French, and had 
French books around, and 
played the piano, did more to 
keep him an outsider than you 
could believe, if you were going 
on reason instead of experience. 
He was popular enough, but 
there are no roots to a popu¬ 
larity like that. 

“The French business 
worked into Pauline’s schemes. 
When she got so bored, she 
began to think that the devil helped those who 
helped themselves. After her boy was born, she 
tried to get what excitement she could out of 
being a devoted mother. She was always calling 
me in because his hair wouldn’t curl or he kicked 
harder one day than the next, till I let her know 
I wouldn’t put up with her foolishness. 

“All that petered out when he was about two 
years old. You’ve heard me say that the mere 
animal instinct of maternity often weakens 
about that time. Pauline never had been really 
burdened with it; and it was about then that 
Wiley began those long stays in Texas, looking 
after his dad’s land interests down there. That 
was when Pauline developed a taste for the 
French language and literature. She got up a 
club to study ’em. It met at her house, and 
Henri was always being rung in to help them 
out. She’d have him stay after the meeting, 



PAULINE MAYBURY 


THE CASE OF HENRI PASSALAIGUE 


316 

to assist and advise her as to the next — all 
that sort of thing. She never got him there 
except she cornered him, but Henri was polite 
and Pauline was patient. 

“ People laughed a little, but no one took it 
hard. We all knew Pauline. No, not all; but 
those that didn't were the ones that believed 
butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. There was 
no scandal till Buck Saunders broke into the 
game. Pauline had never meant there should 
be; she meant there shouldn't. She doesn't 
play to lose social standing — not Pauline; and 
she doesn't lose it, either, not even when a 
brother-in-law like Buck stacks the cards 
against her. 

" Look at her now ! I could curse her some¬ 
times, when 1 see her going around so smooth 
and soft, watering her popularity and shoring 
up her position afresh. But there's no use feel¬ 
ing that way about it; no use. She's Matt 
Maybury's granddaughter, and she's the way 
she was born, and the way we've all helped to 
make her. She's a ‘good' woman, and, as sure 
as God's above us, she feels she is. She's com¬ 
placent now , after everything. She thinks in 
her heart that she's not always as perfectly 
prudent as some people, but, then, she doesn’t 
have to be. With her cool head she could 
never ‘go wrong.' 

" It seems to me Buck Saunders is the biggest 


fool 1 ever studied. Brainless, swaggering, 
eaten up with bilious sore vanity, he bullies 
and spouts and eats fire — anything to show 
off. 

“While Henri was being called on to help 
spread the French language, he managed to 
find time to win a case from Buck. It wasn't 
a Saunders case, or the old man would never 
have left it in Buck's hands. With that, Buck's 
gorge rose over Passalaigue's relations to his 
sister-in-law. But he didn't waste time on 
Pauline; that was too obscure an activity for 
him. The first move he made was to write 
Passalaigue a note forbidding him to call on his 
brother's wife. And he showed it to a dozen 
men before he sent it. He said Pauline must 
be protected, and all around the square men 
were laughing and asking who was going to 
protect Passalaigue, and jeering at Buck for 
getting mad because Passalaigue had won the 
Byers case. Buck is such an ass, nobody took 
in what Buck, idiot as he is, saw sharp enough 
— that all the Saunders power was behind him. 

“Of course, Pauline heard of the note in- 
stanter. And what does she do? By God! 
she does what her kind would do nine times out 
of ten. She sent her note asking Passalaigue to 
come to her. 

“ Don't ask me why. I suppose the com¬ 
bination of vanity of power and of selfish 
amorousness in excitement and sheer 
damn foolery differs in every case. 
All 1 know about Pauline is that 
she sent for the man, and that 
all there was in it for her was food 
for her vanity and sensuality. What 
can you call it but sensuality through¬ 
out, so far as it wasn't vanity, even 
if she hoped for nothing but to feed 
on the sight of a man's desire? 

“ No doubt society regulates its 
crimes and penalties well enough for 
its own ends, but an old doctor gets 
mighty heretical about a good many 
things, and I can tell you, young 
man, there are women not so ‘good' 
that I like better than Pauline." 

The doctor's big head sank on his 
breast, and for moments both men 
were silent. 

“I suppose Henri had to go," the 
doctor said at last; “but since man's 
fantastical history began did ever 
anything show us plainer far the 
zanies of the gods? 

“ I saw him as he turned into the 
gate. He looked like a prince. He 
was carrying his hat in his hand, and 
it seemed to me I'd never seen before 







“‘all around the sq.ua re men were laughing, and asking who was going to 

PROTECT PASSALAICUE”' 


how shapely that high brown head of his was. 
That was about sunset. 

“ It was ten o’clock that night when old Miss 
Lacy came for me. It was in front of her gate 
that Buck had shot him — shot him from be¬ 
hind; without a word he’d shot him in the 
back. ... It was a queer chance hit. Buck 
can’t shoot; he was aiming too high, but the 
bullet entered the medulla oblongata. Of 
course, the boy was dead when he hit the 
ground. 

“Shot behind his back by a cowardly skunk 
that was showing off. 

That’s why Henri Passa- 
laigue died — because Buck 
Saunders wanted to show 
off; wanted to feel how 
superior a live dog is to a 
dead lion. 

“ Buck Saunders hasn’t 
the brain of a rabbit, but 
listen to me, boy!” The 
doctor kept himself in 
hand, but the eyes he 
turned on his son were 
bloodshot. “Listen to me. 

He had brains enough for 
successful murder in our 
town. He spent that night 
in jail, and the next day 
the coroner’s jury turned 
him loose, and loose he’s 
been ever since, free as air. 

The case was brought be¬ 
fore the grand jury. There 
are a few men among us 
yet, but they weren’t on 
that grand jury. It would 
not indict. They were all 
afraid — afraid to call their 
souls their own. Old 
Saunders laid down all the 


law we had. Not out loud, not in the market¬ 
place,— he didn’t risk waking up our manhood 
by cracking the whip too brazenly,— but on 
the quiet, in this man’s ear and that, his law 
was whispered around, and the amount of it 
was that if his son couldn’t shoot a half- 
foreign, kinless stranger with impunity, he’d 
smash a lot of business interests. Business 
interests! Men have voluntarily beggared 
themselves in that town in the old days to 
save their honor. But, in spite of all the busi¬ 
ness interests spawned in hell, we’d have 
brought that bloody mur¬ 
derer to trial—we’d have 
done that much anyhow — 
if there hadn’t been a 
woman in the case. 

“No man, woman, or 
child believed that Passa- 
laigue ran after Pauline, 
but they could say they 
believed it. They could 
hide their shame by blow¬ 
ing about purity of woman 
and higher law and 
Southern tradition. I 
could hang the traitors 
that drag in Southern tra¬ 
dition to save their own 
dirty skins. That’s what 
our chivalry came to this 
time; it furnished a petti¬ 
coat for men who were 
bought and sold to hide 
behind. There’s a lame 
and impotent conclusion 
for our old-time sense of 
honor. 

“ It’s the South's bitter 
sorrows, the isolated 
struggle and courage of 
her, that brought us long 



OLD MAN SAUNDERS 


3 1 7 








1 


18 THE CASE OF HENRI PASSALAIGUE 


since to the pitch where any hypocrite among 
us could trade better on his Southernism than 
on his religion. But when we get modern busi¬ 
ness enterprise mixed in the dish, God help us! 

“I used to believe in every man being his 
own policeman, the way 1 was raised. I sup¬ 
pose likely he was a prejudiced authority some¬ 
times,— it seems likely,— but all codes work 
awry; maybe ours did as well as the others 
once. But when it comes to the higher law 
mixed up with money power and business in¬ 
terests, I'd give my right hand to rid the South 
of the shame it brings her.” 

Ben broke a silence to question: “What 
about Pauline since?’' 

The doctor lifted his weary eyes from the 
grate fire. “She’s kept her head above water 
through everything, at any price. She took to 
her bed and saw nobody but her own family till 
Wiley got home. The Mayburys all took the 
line of silence, only, ‘Poor Buck! They must 
stand by Buck, because, dreadful as it was, he’d 
tried to stand by Pauline.’ You may stare, 
but that was their note, and this close-mouthed 
way left you to infer all they could tell about 
Passalaigue if they would. Pauline’s got the 
best head among them. It was up in her bed¬ 
room they were drilled so well. They said, too, 
that Pauline had made one last effort to save 
him — just that, nothing more. That was to 
cover the message sending for him. Miss Lacy 
had found it in his pocket: she told me about 
it in her excitement, but she’d burnt it, and 
she never told any one else. That was all right, 
poor old thing; it wouldn’t have done any good, 
and she couldn’t afford a feud for nothing with 
the whole Maybury crew and the Saunders to 
boot. As a fact, everybody knew something 
about it. Pauline’s little nigger had given it 
to Henri on the square, when the whole town 
was on the qui vive. 

“All the two days before Wiley got there 
the Mayburys were wailing for Wiley, and tell¬ 


ing how Pauline was crying night and day for 
her husband. It was the greatest bluff 1 ever 
saw worked, and it did work, too, and that 
without really taking in one adult, black or 
white, in the whole population. 

“No, I except Wiley Saunders; I reckon he 
let himself be deceived. He seemed to have a 
new honeymoon over Passalaigue’s dead body. 
Savory, ain’t it? 

“But every one’s game was suited. Buck 
was scared enough to play in with his dear 
sister-in-law, and the men talked on the square 
about the defense of Southern womanhood. 
They slowed up some when any one of half a 
dozen of us happened around, but we didn’t 
count to hurt anything. 

“The Saunders own the town. Buck’s 
swaggering more than ever; Henri’s rotting in 
his grave; and Pauline’s busy night and day 
showing what a good woman, good wife, good 
mother, she is. I don’t believe she suffers a 
thing in her conscience. Buck does. He’s 
nervous; he swaggers and carouses to get 
away from himself. But the power of self- 
deception in a woman like Pauline is past 
fathoming. She knows she’s a ‘good woman,' 
that’s enough; that’s the whole code, and she’s 
got a right to keep that standing at any cost. 
We’ve all helped make her; we can only re¬ 
member that. 

“ But when you tell me, Ben, about the cor¬ 
ruption and the contempt of law you are up 
against, I don’t feel as arrogant over these 
Yankees as I used to. I’ve drunk our own 
home brew of shame.” 

After a.time Ben spoke. “Yes,” said he, 
with somber bitterness; “up here we can count 
on the law at least one step further. You make 
things relatively the same, and I’ll tell you that 
the chance we’d ever convict is too small to feed 
any great pride in law and order. But we’d 
have indicted Buck Saunders; we’d have done 
that much for innocent blood.” 


















THE MORTALITY OF OVERWEIGHTS 
AND UNDERWEIGHTS 


BY 

BRAN DRETH SYMONDS, A.M., M.D. 

D R. SYMONDS, who is chief medical director of one of the largest New York life insur¬ 
ance companies, delivered an address upon this subject before the New Jersey Medical 
Society. His address was whdely copied and was printed in pamphlet form. The statistics 
he was able to quote were so authoritative and interesting that he was asked to write this 
article. — The Editor. 


U NTIL life insurance came into exist¬ 
ence, the proper relation of height to 
weight and the effect of this relation 
upon longevity had no commercial 
significance. The aesthetic stand¬ 
ards of physique ranged from the waddling obe¬ 
sities, who are admired by Arabs and adored by 
Hottentots, to the Greek ideals, as shown in the 
Apollo Belvedere and the Venus of Melos. Each 
people adopted a different standard of phys¬ 
ical perfection, but no one knew whether that 
standard made for a long life. With the advent 
of life insurance this matter became important, 
but even then its real significance was not recog¬ 
nized. In fact, only of late years have we be¬ 
come fully alive to the fact that the physique of 
an individual is a fundamental element in his 
selection as a life insurance risk. If a proper 
relation of weight to height and age is not se¬ 
cured when selecting a given group of risks, the 
mortality in that group will be high in spite of 
the utmost care in excluding all other unfavor¬ 
able elements. 

The earliest table of height and weight that I 
could find was published in 1836 by Quetelet. 
It was based upon the facts gathered from the 
examination of a moderate number of Belgians. 
The following tables are abstracted from the 
originals, which are considerably more volumin¬ 
ous. One weight and one height are given for 
each age, and these are supposed to be the aver¬ 
age height and weight for that age: 

WOMEN 


age height weight 


20 . 

.5 

ft. 


in...... . 

.120 

lbs. 

30. 

.5 

ft. 

2i 

in. 

.1 21 

lbs. 

40. 

.5 

ft. 

1 

in . 

. I2 5 

lbs. 

50 . 

.5 

ft. 

i 

in. .. . . . 

. 120 

lbs. 

60 . 

.5 

ft. 

0 

in . 

. 12 5 

lbs. 



MEN 


AGE 

HEIGHT 

WEIGHT 

20. 

.5 ft- l\ in . 


30. 



40 . 

. 5 ft- 7 l in. 


5°. 



60. 




The heights were taken without shoes, but 
the weights included the clothing. These iso¬ 
lated facts agree fairly well with our present 
standard, but they were too few to be of much 
assistance. Still, this table served as a starting- 
point, and we must look upon it, however im¬ 
perfect, as the first attempt to solve the prob¬ 
lem. It is interesting to note that in his 
subsequent calculations he estimated the cloth¬ 
ing of the men to be one eighteenth of their total 
weight and that of women to be one twenty- 
fourth of their total weight. 

Weight by the Standards of Greek 
Sculpture 

In 1844 W. B. Brent took up the question of a 
theoretically normal man, based upon the stand¬ 
ards of Greek art, as exemplified in the statues 
of the Bronze Tumbler, the Dying Gladiator, 
Theseus (in the British Museum), the Bronze 
Hercules (in the British Museum), and the Far- 
nese Hercules, the latter being reduced from its 
heroic proportions to life size. He selected these 
as representing the different types of physique, 
as they range from extreme leanness in the 
Bronze Tumbler to enormous muscular develop¬ 
ment in the Farnese Hercules. 

He assumed that the specific gravity of the 
body is the same as that of water; that the cubes 
of homologous dimensions are in the proportion 
of weight; and that one seventeenth is to be 
added for clothes. According to a correspond- 

3 ! 9 






















320 MORTALITY OF OVERWEIGHTS AND UNDERWEIGHTS 


ent of the Journal oj the Institute of Actuaries , 
the resulting formula is w = where h is 

the height in inches and w the weight in pounds. 
This correspondent then takes the average of 
the first three statues mentioned in the above 
list, and using this average as a base-line, he 
constructs the following table: 


HEIGHT 

5 ft. 

5 t. 

5 t. 

5 t. 

5 ft. 

5 ft. 

5 ft. 

5 t. 

5 ft. 

6 ft. 


3 in. 

4 in. 

} ! n ‘ 

6 in. 

7 in. 

8 in. 
0 in. 


■ 12 5 
.131 

07 
• 1 44 
.150 

1 57 
. 104 


10 in.172 

11 in.179 

o in.187 


lbs. 

lbs. 

lbs. 

lbs. 

lbs. 

lbs. 

lbs. 

lbs. 

Ibs. 

lbs. 


This table is faulty, for it takes no note of the 
age. At 5 ft. 3 in. the weight would be that of a 
boy below 20; at 5 ft. 5 in. the weight would be 
that of a young man of 25; at 5 ft. 7 in. that of a 
man of from 30 to 34; at 5 ft. 8 in. that of a man 
of from 35 to 39; at 5 ft. 1 1 in. that of a man of 
60. It is evident that Brent’s formula does not 
prove of much value in determining the relation 
of weight to height and age. 


Weight a Practical Factor in Life In¬ 
surance 

In 1846 Hutchinson published his table of 
heights and weights based upon certain data 
gathered in England. It purports to represent 
the standard weight for each height at the age 
of 30, and is as follows: 


HEIGHT 

5 ft. i in.. 
5 ft. 2 in.. 
5 ft. 3 in.. 
5 ft. 4 in.. 
5 ft. 5 in.. 
5 ft. 6 in.. 
5 ft. 7 in.. 
5 ft. 8 in.. 
5 ft. 9 in.. 
5 ft. 10 in.. 

5 ft. 11 in.. 

6 ft. o in.. 


WEIGHT 

I 20 lbs. 
1 26 lbs. 
133 lbs. 
13c) lbs. 
142 lbs. 
14c lbs. 
148 lbs. 
>55 lbs. 
162 Ibs. 
169 lbs. 
174 lbs. 
178 lbs. 


For heights from 5 ft. 3 in. to 5 ft. 9 in. it 
agrees with our present standard for the age of 
30. For the shorter heights it is too light, and 
for the taller heights it is too heavy. This table 
was soon adopted by insurance companies as a* 
guide. Each medical department had its own 
set of rules by which to calculate the proper 
weight for other ages than 30. These rules were 
based upon theoretical considerations and did 
not give very satisfactory results. 

T. B. Macaulay in 1881 published a table of 
weights, based upon measurements taken from 
2,000 Canadians, as follows: 


AVERAGE WEIGHTS AT VARIOUS HEIGHTS 


HEIGHT 


5 

ft. 

1 

in... 

5 

ft. 

2 

in ... 

5 

ft. 

3 

in... 

5 

ft. 

4 

in... 

5 

ft. 

5 

in ... 

5 

ft. 

6 

in ... 

5 

ft. 

7 

in ... 

5 

ft. 

8 

in ... 

5 

ft. 

9 

in... 

5 

ft. 

! O 

in ... 

5 

ft. 

1 I 

in... 

6 

ft. 

O 

in ... 


WEIGHT 

125 lbs. 
128 lbs. 
131 lbs. 
134 Ibs. 

>37-5 lbs - 
141 lbs. 

>45-5 Ibs. 
151 lbs. 

156.5 Ibs. 

161.5 lbs. 
167 lbs. 
173 lbs. 


The average age at entry was 28, and for that 
age it was a good standard, though a little too 
heavy in the greater heights. He recognized 
that “the influence of age is considerable, as 
may be seen from the following table: 


AGE WEIGHT 

16 to 20 . 142.5 lbs. 

21 to 25. I49.6 lbs. 

26 to 30 . i 51.3 lbs. 

3' to 35. 1 57.3 Ibs. 

36 to 40 . ... . 1 58.2 lbs. 

41 to 45. 1 59.2 lbs. 

46 to 50 . 163.5 lbs. 

51 to 55. 167.7 ^s. 

56 to 60 . 172.4 lbs. 


But the number of cases at his command was 
too small to enable him to combine these two 
tables and give an average weight for each 
height and age. 

First Standard Table of Weights 

In 1897 Lr. George R. Shepherd compiled for 
the Association of Life Insurance Medical Direc¬ 
tors a table of height and weight for each quin¬ 
quennium from 15 to 69. This was based upon 
the heights and weights of 74,162 accepted male 
applicants for life insurance in the United States 
and Canada. The weight included the clothing 
and the height the shoes. In other words, the 
conditions were the same as those under which 
the applicants presented themselves to the med¬ 
ical examiner. At the extremes of age and 
of height, the number of individuals in any one 
class was small and the curve of weight showed 
abrupt changes which had to be equalized. The 
net result was a table of heights and weights 
varying according to the age which was adopted 
by the leading insurance companies as being the 
standard. (See page 321.) 

In 1900 a table of heights and weights varying 
according to age was compiled by a committee 
of the medical section of the National Fraternal 
Congress. This was based upon an analysis of 
133,940 applications of selected risks from the 
United States and Canada. The number of 
weights given in it amounted to 112, and 111 of 
these are identical with the similar numbers in 
Dr. Shepherd’s table. This coincidence is so thor- 















































DR. SHEPHERD’S TABLE OF HEIGHT AND WEIGHT AT DIFFERENT AGES 



15-24 

25-29 

30-34 

m 

35-39 

40-44 

45-49 

50-54 

55-59 

60-64 

65-69 

5 ft. 

0 in. 

I 20 

12 5 

128 

7 » 

’33 

*34 

1 34 

'34 

’ 3 1 


5 ft. 

1 in. 

122 

I 26 

129 

7 ’ 

1 34 

136 

136 

,36 

>34 


5 *• 

2 in. 

124 

128 

1 3 1 

1 33 

136 

138 

’38 

138 

’37 


5 *• 

3 in. 

12 7 


74 

136 

139 

141 

141 

141 

140 

140 

5 ft. 

4 in. 

’3 1 

7 * 

138 

140 

>43 

144 

’45 

’45 

144 

’43 

5 t- 

5 in. 

74 

>38 

141 

’43 

146 

’47 

149 

149 

148 

’47 

5 t . 

6 in. 

138 

142 

1 45 

’47 

< 5 ° 

7 * 

73 

73 

■53 

’ 5 ’ 

5 ft- 

7 in. 

142 

’47 

1 5 ° 

152 

75 

1 5 6 

1 58 

158 

>58 

156 

5 ft. 

8 in. 

146 

7 ’ 

1 54 

1 57 

160 

161 

163 

163 

163 

162 

5 ft. 

9 in. 

1 5 ° 

75 

159 

162 

163 

166 

167 

168 

168 

168 

5 ft. 

10 in. 

1 54 

159 

164 

167 

170 

7 1 

172 

73 

74 

>74 

5 ft. 

11 in. 

159 

164 

169 

l 73 

75 

77 

177 

178 

180 

180 

6 ft. 

0 in. 

165 

170 

77 

75 

79 

180 

183 

182 

183 

185 

>85 

6 ft. 

1 in. 

170 

181 

185 ■ 

186 

189 

188 

189 

189 

189 

6 ft. 

2 in. 

* 7 6 

184 

188 

192 

194 

196 

194 

>94 

192 

192 

6 ft. 

3 in. 

181 

190 

■95 

200 

203 

204 

201 

198 




ough as to border on the marvelous, and one felt 
some scepticism as to whether this table was con¬ 
structed quite independently of Dr. Shepherd's. 
I therefore took the liberty of writing to the 
Chairman of the Committee who had charge of 
the compilation, and was assured by him in 
reply that the table was constructed de novo. 
This wonderful corroboration of Dr. Shepherd’s 
table shows that it is undoubtedly an exact 
standard for the United States and Canada. 

We must remember that these heights and 
weights were taken when the parties were shod 
and clad in ordinary clothing. The shoe of a 
man will ordinarily raise him about i or i| 
inches. According to Quetelet, we should allow 
in the case of a man one eighteenth of his total 
weight for clothing. If the weight of the man 
is 170 pounds, the clothing, therefore, should 
weigh 9.5 pounds. Actually, the weight of his 
clothing, including shoes, but excluding any 
form of overcoat, varies considerably according 
to the season. In the neighborhood of New 
York a man of 170 pounds will wear during 
the summer 6 or 7 pounds of clothing, while 
in winter its weight may rise as high as 12 or 
14 pounds. This difference is undoubtedly a 
factor in the increase in weight during the 
winter which so many people believe in. In 
examinations for life insurance we do not at¬ 
tach any great importance to the differences 
due to clothing, for they are not large enough 
to modify materially our results. 

Short Men Grow Stout Faster Than Tall 

It will pay to glance over this table of Dr. 
Shepherd’s for a moment. You will note that 
the weight rises steadily as you go down- each 
vertical column. Dr. Oscar H. Rogers has for¬ 
mulated the rule from a study of this table that 
each added inch in height calls for an addition 


of 3 per cent in the weight. This rule'will apply, 
if liberally interpreted, to all but small men. 
The weight increases steadily with age in each 
horizontal line up to the year 45 among the 
small men, the year 50 among the middle-sized 
men, and the year 55 and even 60 among the 
tall men. One is almost tempted to say that the 
taller the man, the longer it takes him to reach 
full maturity as shown by his weight. In the 
very tall this rule does not seem to apply, but 
the number of these was so small that a slight 
error may have crept in. 

What Women Should Weigh 

When I read my paper on this subject at the 
one hundred and forty-second meeting of the 
Medical Society of New Jersey, we had no stand¬ 
ard table of heights and weights for women. We 
assumed in a rough way that they were about 
six to nine pounds lighter than men at the age 
of 25, and that this difference gradually dimin¬ 
ished until it practically disappeared after the 
age 45 or 50. At my instance, Dr. Faneuil S. 
Weisse prepared a standard table of height and 
weight for women (see page 322), which he pre¬ 
sented at the Nineteenth Annual Meeting of the 
Association of Life Insurance Medical Directors. 

The women on the measurements of whom 
this table is based were all healthy resi¬ 
dents of the United States and Canada, who 
had been accepted for life insurance since 
1895. As in the case of men, they were shod 
and supposed to be dressed in ordinary cloth¬ 
ing. According to Quetelet we should allow 
one twenty-fourth of the total weight for the 
clothing of a woman. From my limited ob¬ 
servations I am inclined to think that this is 
about correct, though naturally it should vary 
with the season. There is no doubt that a 
woman’s clothing as a rule is lighter than a 

321 
























ADJUSTED TABLE OF WEIGHTS FOR INSURED WOMEN BASED ON 58,855 ACCEPTED LIVES 



15-19 

20-24 

25-29 

30-34 

35-39 

40-44 

45-49 

50-54 

55-59 

60-64 

COMBINED 

AGES 

4 ft. 

i i in. 

1 1 I 

"3 

115 

1 >7 

I 19 

122 

125 

128 

128 

126 

% Il8 

5 ft. 

0 in. 

•13 

114 

>>7 

119 

I 22 

> 2 5 

128 

130 

’3 1 

129 

120 

5 ft. 

1 in. 

11 5 

I 16 

ll8 

121 

124 

128 

*3 1 

‘33 

>34 

132 

122 

5 ft. 

2 in. 

11 7 

118 

120 

123 

127 

132 

1 34 

'37 

'37 

136 

I2 5 

5 ft. 

3 in. 

120 

122 

124 

I2 7 

13 ' 

>35 

138 

1 4 1 

1 4 1 

140 

128 

5 ft. 

4 in. 

123 

I2 5 

127 

130 

134 

138 

142 

'45 

>45 

'44 

> 3 ' 

5 ft. 

5 in. 

12 5 

128 

131 

‘35 

*30 

M 3 

'47 

149 

>49 

> 4 « 

>35 

5 ft. 

6 in. 

128 

132 

1 3 5 

MO 

1 43 

146 

' 5 ' 

‘53 

'53 

>52 

>39 

5 ft. 

7 in - 

132 

■35 

*39 

M 3 

>47 

5 5 ° 

>54 

1 57 

156 

>55 

'43 

5 ft. 

0 in. 

136 

140 

M 3 

1 47 

1 5 * 

1 55 

158 

161 

161 

160 

'47 

5 ft. 

9 in. 

140 

144 

1 47 

1 5 1 

1 55 

1 59 

163 

166 

166 

165 

> 5 > 

5 ft. 

10 in. 

144 

1 47 

> 5 > 

■ 55 __ 

■59 

163 

167 

170 

170 

169 

>55 

COMBINED 

HfeIGMTS 

123 

126 

129 

132 

136 

139 

142 

'45 

>44 

142 

*33 


man’s. The shoes of the average woman will 
raise her about to 1 $ inches. 

It is a great advantage to have a standard for 
women definitely settled. Fortunately the rough 
empirical method by which we had recently 
been working is so nearly accurate that this new 
standard will not materially modify our con¬ 
clusions. 

Women Grow Stout More Rapidly 
Than Men 

It will pay to study this table, especially in 


conjunction with Dr. Shepherd’s table for men. 
Women attain their maximum weight more uni¬ 
formly than men, as practically all of them 
reach this point at from 50 to 59. After the age 
of 25, women increase in weight more rapidly 
than men. Thus a man of 5 ft. 6 in. gains 11 
pounds between the ages of 25 and 50, while a 
woman of the same height gains 18 pounds dur¬ 
ing that time. This is well shown in the curves 
prepared by Dr. Weisse, which are given below. 

The horizontal lines represent the weight, 
starting at 125 pounds and allowing 5 pounds 



322 





















































BRANDRETH SYMONDS, A.M., M.D. 


to each line. The vertical lines represent the age 
at the mid-point of the quinquenniums used in 
the tables. Thus the quinquennium 25-29 is 
put down at 27.5. 

The upper curve is that of men, the lower of 
women. The distance between them is due to 
the fact that the average woman is about 3 
inches shorter than the average man. Note now 
that the average man at the age of 27.5 weighs 
148.1 and at the age of 57.5, when he has 
reached his maximum, he weighs 159.7, a gain 
of 11.6 pounds. The average woman at the age 
of 27.5 weighs 129.1 and at the age of 57.5 she 
weighs 145.7, a gain of 16.6 pounds, which is 
just 5 pounds more than that of the average man 
during that period. The result of this is that at 
heights 5 ft. 3, 4, 5, and 6 in., women will weigh 
the same as men when they reach the age of 50 
or thereabouts. At other heights, women get 
within a pound or two of men, but no closer. 
These curves are constructed from the unad¬ 
justed weights, and thus represent the actual 
facts as determined from the original figures. In 
the standard tables prepared by Dr. Shepherd 
and Dr. Weisse, these unadjusted figures have 
been slightly modified, either up or down, at 
some points in order to secure a perfectly uni¬ 
form curve at all ages. Dr. Weisse says: “In 
preparing the adjusted table, it is interesting to 
note that the weights of over 80 per cent of all 
these women needed practically no adjustment. 
The average weight of all the 58,855 women, 
after all adjusting, involved a difference of less 
than one-tenth, .056, of a pound.” 

Weight and the Death Rate 

We are now very comfortably fixed, for we have 
accurate standards of weight, according to 
height and age, for both women and men, at 
least for the United States and Canada. It is a 
curious fact that the lowest death rate does not 
coincide with the standard. In general terms it 
may be said that the lowest death rate is found 
in the class who are about 5 per cent below the 
standard, but in ages below 30 the lowest rate 
is found among those who are 5 to 10 per cent 
above standard. These differences are not great, 
and I wish to discuss in fuller detail the more 
marked cases of overweight and underweight. 
Before doing so, I will explain as briefly as pos¬ 
sible the statistical method by which we deter¬ 
mine whether a given class of insurance risks is 
furnishing a satisfactory mortality. 

The duration of an individual life is most un¬ 
certain, but the average duration of 100,000 
lives is very certain. Many mortality tables have 
been constructed showing the probabilities of 
dying at each age of life. The one most used 
for these statistical investigations is known as 


323 

the Modified Healthy English, and is the one 
adopted by the Actuarial Society of America in 
their Specialized Mortality Investigation. Ac¬ 
cording to this table, the probability of dying 
at the age of 30 is . 00821, or, to put it in another 
way, out of 100,000 living persons 30 years old, 
821 will die during that year. This only holds 
true, however, if these cases are not influenced 
by medical selection, for we find that the influ¬ 
ence of this extends for at least five years and 
probably longer. We must, therefore, make an 
allowance for medical selection. 

How Life Insurance Risks Are 
Computed 

According to the Actuarial Society, the prob¬ 
ability of dying at the age of 30, during the first 
year after medical selection, is only one-half. To 
put it in another way, only 410 would die instead 
of 821. In the second year of insurance, the per¬ 
centage is 68 at this age. As our group of cases 
are now in the second year of insurance, they are 
31 years old, and the mortality figure is .00828, 
or 828 out of 100,000. We therefore have to take 
68 per cent of 828, and our expected deaths will 
be 564 out of 100,000 living, instead of 828. I 
think that,this will give you some idea of the 
method employed. It is tedious and the details 
are very intricate, but the principle, as you will 
see, is comparatively simple. By this means we 
calculate the deaths that are expected to occur 
in a given group of individuals. If this group 
shows 100 actual deaths and 200 expected 
deaths, we say that the mortality is 50 per cent. 
If the group shows 200 actual deaths and 100 
expected, we say that the mortality is 200 per 
cent. That is the technical meaning of the term 
“mortality” as employed in this and similar 
statistical researches. In a rough way we con¬ 
sider that a mortality between 90 per cent and 
100 per cent is fair; if between 80 per cent and 
90 per cent, it is good, and if below 80 per cent, 
it is very good. 

When a Man Begins to be Overweight 

Let us first take up overweights. A case is not 
considered overweight unless it is more than 20 
percent above the standard weight for the height 
and age. For example, at the age of 40 the stand¬ 
ard weight of a man 5 ft. 6 in. tall is 150 pounds. 
We would not regard him as an overweight until 
he had passed 180 pounds, which is 20 per cent 
above his standard. Even in the classes of 
smaller excess than this the mortality increases, 
but at this point it begins to be a serious matter. 
For the sake of convenience, we will call those 
overweights who are between 20 per cent and 
30 per cent above the standard “moderate over¬ 
weights.” Similarly we will call those over- 


324 MORTALITY OF OVERWEIGHTS AND UNDERWEIGHTS 


weights who are more than 30 per cent above 
the standard “excessive overweights/' Thus, 
men 40 years old who are 5 ft. 6 in. tall and 
weigh between 180 and 195 pounds would be 
termed moderate overweights, but if they ex¬ 
ceed 195 pounds, they would be called exces¬ 
sive overweights. 

Overweight a Dangerous Symptom 
After Twenty-eight 


The effect of overweight is influenced by two 
fundamental factors. These are (1) percentage 
of overweight; and (2) age of the individual. 
The following table shows this very closely. The 
first column contains the age periods, the second 
column the mortality of the moderate over¬ 
weights, the third column the mortality of the 
excessive overweights. 


ACE 

15 to 28 (voung) 
29 to 42 (mature) 
43 to 56 (elderly) 
57 to 70 (old) 


MODERATE 

OVERWEIGHTS 


80% 

103% 

'33% 

'25% 


EXCESSIVE 

OVERWEIGHTS 


88 % 

124% 

162% 

156% 


As your eye follows down each of these col¬ 
umns, you will note that the mortality rises 
rapidly both among the moderate overweights 
and the excessive overweights. It is true that 
the old in both classes have a little better mor¬ 
tality than the elderly, but I think that the old 
overweights were selected with a little more care 
than the elderly, and for that reason their mor¬ 
tality is a shade better. 

As you compare the moderate overweights 
with the excessive overweights, you will note 
that the latter have a higher mortality at every 
age. The young overweights have a good mor¬ 
tality in both groups. The mature moderate 
overweights are bad, while the mature excessive 
overweights are very bad. Still worse than they 
come the elderly moderate overweights, and at 
the unenviable apex stand the elderly excessive 
overweights, with a mortality of 162 per cent. 

It may be said, then, that an overweight in a 
person below 29 is not harmful even up to 30 
per cent or 35 per cent above the standard, pro¬ 
vided the person does not get actually heavier 
with advancing years. You will note that this 
remark refers to actual weight and not relative 
weight. Our standard increases with advancing 
age, so that an excess of 33 per cent at age 22 is 
almost exactly equal to an excess of 20 per cent 
at age 45. If a boy 22 years old and 5 ft. 9 in. 
tall weighs 199 pounds, his weight is 33 per cent 
above the standard of 1 50 pounds at that height 
and age. When that boy gets to be 45 years old, 
if his height and weight still remain the same, 
we find that his weight is only 20 per cent 
in excess, for the standard at age 45 is 166 


pounds. He has kept just at the edge of the 
danger zone, and people of his class will give an 
almost uniform mortality, slightly in excess of 
the normal, irrespective of age. 

Overweight Counterbalances a Tuber¬ 
culous Tendency 

Beyond 30 years of age the mortality among 
overweights rises rapidly with the age and with 
the weight. This will happen even when the ut¬ 
most care is used in examining and selecting 
these risks. A long-lived family history, one in 
which neither parent has died below the age of 
70, will improve the mortality by 10 or 15 points. 
Such a gain as this would make the young over¬ 
weights of both classes very good, and it would 
make the mature moderate overweights show 
a fair mortality, about 90 per cent. In all other 
classes, however, the mortality would still re¬ 
main very bad. 

If the family history is an average or a short¬ 
lived one, the mortality will be increased by 5 
to 15 points. Under these circumstances, we 
find that the young moderate overweights still 
retain a good mortality, but the young excessive 
overweights get up to about 100 per cent. The 
other classes, of course, are rendered just so 
much worse. 

A tuberculous family history seems to have 
about the same effect as a short-lived family 
history. In the younger ages it certainly has no 
worse effect, for, as might be supposed, the over¬ 
weight tends to counterbalance the tuberculous 
predisposition. 

Increasing abdominal girth is a very serious 
matter for overweights. When this exceeds the 
expanded chest, the mortality is markedly in¬ 
creased by 15 or 20 points at least, and much 
more if the abdomen greatly exceeds the ex¬ 
panded chest. You will see that by combining 
these factors, an elderly excessive overweight 
with a large abdomen and short-lived family 
history may easily be exposed to a mortality of 
200 per cent. 

Overweight Universally Shortens Life 

In fact, we can say that any other blemish, 
whether in the personal history or the physical 
condition, regularly increases the mortality of 
these overweights. Conversely, overweight adds 
greatly to the gravity of any other defect. For 
example, I have lately analyzed a class of cases 
which gave a history of renal colic or renal cal¬ 
culus, and which showed a mortality of 99 per 
cent. In this class was a small group of over¬ 
weights. Now, those cases which combined a 
history of renal colic or renal calculus with the 
overweight showed a mortality of 150 per cent. 

As regards foreigners, it may be urged that 


BRANDRETH SYMONDS, A.M.. M.D. 


our standard table is based entirely upon 
selected lives in the United States and Canada, 
and that it would not apply to another race, like 
the Germans, who are usually stouter and 
heavily built. We have found, however, that 
overweight foreigners are, if anything, a little 
worse risks than overweight natives. In truth, 
human fat seems to be the same wherever found, 
and has the same effects upon the prospects of 
life, whether in England, Germany, Holland, 
Belgium, France, Italy, Mexico, or the United 
States. 

We find that overweight women, measured by 
their own standard, show practically the same 
mortality as overweight men. They are fewer 
in number, for women do not often permit them¬ 
selves to become fat. 

Underweight Less Harmful Than 
Overweight 

Now, let us consider the effect of underweight. 
As long as the weight is not below 80 per cent of 
the standard, that is, not more than 20 per cent 
below the standard, the effect seems to be slight. 
The mortality rises slowly, but the increase is 
gradual and not alarming. Below this level, how¬ 
ever, the mortality rises to a point where it is of 
consequence, especially in the younger ages. 
Among the young underweights, we can expect 
a mortality of 110 per cent when the weight is 
from 80 to 75 per cent of the standard. The 
older ages in this group show a uniform mortal¬ 
ity of about 95 per cent. We should call this a 
fair mortality, not very bad, but on the other 
hand not very good. 

In the next group, in which the weight ranges 
from 75 per cent to 70 per cent of the standard, 
that is, from 25 to 30 per cent below the stand¬ 
ard, the number of entrants in my company be¬ 
low age 20 numbered only 30 in the 30 years 
from 1870 to 1899. This number is too small to 
furnish any figures of consequence. Even in the 
decade 20-29 the total number of exposures 
only amounted to 299, an average of less than 
30 for each year. These gave 2 deaths as against 
1 .9 expected. The numbers are too small to be 
of consequence. In the decade 30-39 the number 
exposed rises to 1,391, and these give a mortal¬ 
ity of 100 per cent. After this the mortality is 
fairly satisfactory, ranging from 90 to 95 per 
cent. 

For weights below 70 per cent of the standard, 
that is, more than 30 per cent below the stand¬ 
ard, our experience is very limited and too small 
to divide into different age periods. The actual 
deaths amounted to 12 and the expected to 13.3, 
showing that our selection was reasonably good. 
The number of entrants below age 40 was too 
small to give any information. Above age 40 


3 2 5 

we can only say that when they are picked with 
care, these extreme underweights live a good 
while. 

As regards the other factors which modify the 
influence of underweight, we have to deal with 
a problem quite different from that of over¬ 
weight. The influence of age is reversed among 
underweights. The younger ages are the ones 
most affected, while the older ages are but 
slightly disturbed. 

The mortality increases as the weight dimin¬ 
ishes, but even among those who are more than 
30 per cent below the standard, the mortality is 
not excessive. 

Underweight and Tuberculosis 

The association of dyspepsia with underweight 
is a serious matter with the young, and will give 
us a mortality as high as 1 50 per cent. I have no 
doubt that the combination of dyspepsia and 
underweight in the young is often indicative of 
incipient tuberculosis, the extent of which is 
so small that it is not determined on physical 
examination. 

The association of underweight and tuber¬ 
culous family history has long been recognized as 
serious, especially in the younger ages. Thus, we 
find that this combination gives a mortality of 
180 per cent in the ages below 35. Above that 
age the influence of tuberculosis depends upon 
the number of cases in the family. If we have 
two or more cases occurring in the family of an 
underweight, the mortality is 107 per cent for 
all ages above 35. In these older ages the under¬ 
weight who has had only one case of consump¬ 
tion in his family runs little risk, perhaps for 
the reason that he takes better care of himself. 

As regards women, we find that the lesser 
grades of underweight from 80 to 75 per cent of 
the standard give a mortality of only 77 per cent, 
an excellent result and practically uniform for 
all ages. For weights below this, the mortality 
becomes bad, in fact over 100 per cent, but the 
cases are so few that no deductions can be made 
from them. There is no reason to suppose, how¬ 
ever, that underweight women are any worse 
than underweight men, and I have no doubt 
that they will give as good a mortality if selected 
under the same circumstances. 

Diseases Peculiar to Overweights and 
Underweights 

You have now seen when these overweights and 
underweights die, and it will certainly prove 
of interest to you to know how they die, or, in 
other words, what are the diseases that termin¬ 
ate their lives. The following table shows this 
very clearly. The causes of death are divided 
into twelve classes, eleven of which are shov.n 





326 MORTALITY OF OVERWEIGHTS AND UNDERWEIGHTS 


in the table. Class VIII is omitted, for it in¬ 
cludes those diseases that are peculiar to women, 
and the deaths in this table are only those of 
men. Under each class are named some of the 
more important diseases belonging to it. The 
figures in the other columns represent the per¬ 
centage of deaths, the first column referring to 
overweights, the second to underweights, and 
the third to the general male experience of my 
company, as set forth in its mortality statistics 
from 1843 to 1 898. By this term “percentage/' 
I mean that out of every 100 deaths among the 
overweights, 4 would be due to typhoid fever, 
for example. It is very noticeable that no over¬ 
weight died of obesity and no underweight of 
emaciation. 

SHOWING THE PERCENTAGE OF DEATHS IN ALL 
CLASSES AND SOME INDIVIDUAL DISEASES AMONG 
OVERWEIGHTS, UNDERWEIGHTS, AND THE GENERAL 
EXPERIENCE OF THE LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY 



Causes of Death 

Over¬ 

weights 

1!. ^ 

■giro 

5 £ 

General j 

Experience j 

Class I. 

General Diseases—Acute. 

9.67 

9.28 

8.90 


Typhoid fever... 

4.00 

3.06 

3-94 


Malaria fever. 

1.27 

i .21 

1.24 


Influenza. 

1.47 

2.04 

1.00 

Class II. 

General Diseases—Chronic. 

13.07 

24.59 

19.56 


Tuberculosis. 

2.93 

16.98 

12.42 


Cancer. 

4.40 

5-57 

4.18 


Diabetes. 

3.40 

0.65 

1.25 

Class III. 

Diseases of the Nervous System, 
Cerebral Congestion and Hem¬ 
orrhage— Cerebral Soften¬ 

19.08 

12.16 

17-44 


ing, Paralysis. 

General Paralysis and other 

14. 14 

8.47 

12.32 

Class IV. 

forms of mental alienation .. 
Diseases of the Circulatory 

! .80 

0.84 

1.30 


System. 

i6.oi 

11.69 

11.85 

Class V. 

Organic diseases of the heart. 
Diseases of the Respiratory 

12.94 

8.54 

10.76 


System. 

8.54 

15.78 

11.86 

Class VI. 

Pneumonia. 

Diseases of the Digestive Sys¬ 

6.87 

12.34 

9.03 


tem . 

10.61 

8.54 

10.19 

Class VII. 

Cirrhosis of Liver. 

Diseases of the Genito-urinary 

3-47 

0.05 

1 .00 


System. .. 

Bright’s Disease and Nephri¬ 

12.01 

7.42 

8.78 

Class IX. 

tis. 

Diseases of Skin and Cellular 

11.07 

5.30 

6.66 


Tissue. 

1.20 

0.47 

0.50 

Class X. 

Old age.... 

None 

2.04 

1.50 

Class XI. 

Violent causes. 

7.07 

5-57 

7.42 


Casualties. 

4.20 

3--3 

5 . 2 ! 


Suicides ... . 

2.87 

2.14 

2.20 

Class XII. 

Ill defined.. . 

2.60 

2.50 

3.98 


Class I—acute general diseases—includes all 
the acute infectious diseases except a few that 
are distinctly localized, like pneumonia. Over¬ 
weights suffer a little more from these than 
underweights, the experience of the latter being 
nearly identical with the general experience. 
Typhoid fever shows a little better among the 
underweights, while malaria is about the same 
in both. Influenza is a little worse in both than 
in the general experience. 

In Class II—chronic general diseases—over¬ 


weights seem to secure a marked degree of im¬ 
munity from tuberculosis, for we find among 
them not one-quarter of the amount of fatal 
tuberculosis that we find in our general experi¬ 
ence and hardly one-sixth of what we find 
among the underweights. The large amount 
among the latter is partly due to the fact that 
the underweight in some cases was only a symp¬ 
tom of a tuberculosis which was not recognized 
at the time of the examination. After allowing 
for this, however, we are tempted to say that 
underweight predisposes to tuberculosis, or 
rather, to fatal tuberculosis, and the reverse is 
the case with overweight. This observation is 
particularly interesting, since it is a well-known 
physiological fact that overweights have a 
smaller breathing capacity than underweights. 
Hence, it follows that those whose lungs are 
expanded the least have also the lowest mor¬ 
tality from tuberculosis. 

Cancer among overweights and underweights, 
men and women, shows no appreciable differ¬ 
ence from the general experience. 

Diabetics are scarce among the underweights, 
hardly one-half of the general experience, but 
they are five times as frequent among the over¬ 
weights. Diabetes is due in many cases to over¬ 
eating, especially of starches and sugar. It may 
be that this first causes the overweight, and then 
the overweight interferes with free exercise, and 
the lack of exercise prevents this excessive food 
from being properly burnt up in the system. As 
a result, it passes through the body with very 
little change, thereby causing diabetes. 

In Class III—diseases of the nervous system 
—if we group together the different forms of 
cerebral congestions and hemorrhage, cerebral 
apoplexy and paralysis, we find that over¬ 
weights are a little in excess as compared with 
the general experience, while the underweights 
are distinctly below the average in this group. 
Here again the difference between overweights 
and underweights can probably be ascribed to 
the excess of food taken by the former, but the 
excess in this case is of meats and meat extracts, 
such as consomme, stock soups, etc. 

In Class IV—diseases of the circulatory sys¬ 
tem—organic diseases of the heart show a de¬ 
cided excess among overweights, and as great a 
deficiency among underweights. This may be 
due to the fatty infiltration of the heart that is 
often present in overweights. 

In Class V—diseases of the respiratory sys¬ 
tem—pneumonia is nearly twice as fatal among 
underweights as among overweights, although 
the prognosis in pneumonia is usually regarded 
as more serious in an overweight than in an 
underweight. Taking these two factors into 
account, it would almost appear that over- 







































BRANDRETH SYMONDS, A.M., M . D. 


weights have a certain immunity from the pneu¬ 
mococcus, while the underweights are more than 
usually susceptible. 

In Class VI—diseases of the digestive system 
—cirrhosis of the liver is three and one-half 
times as prevalent among overweights as in our 
general experience. This undoubtedly points to 
alcoholism, for statisticians generally consider 
that hepatic cirrhosis is a very accurate index 
of the alcoholic habits of a class. Among the 
underweights it is below the normal, as are also 
the other diseases of the digestive system, thus 
showing their moderation in food as well as 
drink. 

In Class VII—diseases of the genito-urinary 
system—Bright's disease and inflammation of 
the kidneys, both acute and chronic, are nearly 
twice as prevalent among overweights as in our 
general experience. This excess can probably 
be ascribed to the habit of overeating and over¬ 
drinking, which produces both the overweight 
and the Bright's disease. Among underweights 
it is a little below the average. 

In Class IX—diseases of the skin and cellular 
tissue—there were eleven deaths from carbuncle 
among the overweights, where there should have 
been but two. This is a great excess, but 1 am 
inclined to think that many of these cases were 
associated with unrecognized diabetes, which 
would be properly described as the cause of 
death. If this surmise is correct, diabetes be¬ 
comes a still more serious factor among over¬ 
weights. 

In Class XI—violent causes — casualties 
among both overweights and underweights are 
a little below the average. This may show that 
they take care to avoid injuries, or else it may 
be that the abnormal weight, whether above or 
below the standard, prevents them from enter¬ 
ing occupations liable to fatal accidents. 

No overweight, whether man or woman, died 
of old age or senility, according to our record. 
On the other hand, old age or senility caused 22 
deaths among the male underweights and 5 
among the female. Furthermore, it should be 
noted that no overweight attained the age of 80 
years at death, while, on the other hand, 44 
underweights passed this age, and two of them 
even reached the age of 90 before dying. 

In conclusion, I think that I can do no better 
than to quote from the Medical Record the sum¬ 
mary that ended my previous paper on this 
subject before the Medical Society of New 
Jersey: 

Overweight a Burden , Not a Reserve 
Fund 

“Now, let us sum up in a general way the differ¬ 
ences between overweights and underweights. 


327 

The mortality among all those, irrespective of 
age, who are between*20 and 30 per cent below 
the standard weight, is 96 per cent, while the 
mortality of all, irrespective of age, who are be¬ 
tween 20 and 30 per cent above the standard, 
is 113 per cent. These figures alone would show 
that overweight is a much more serious condi¬ 
tion than underweight. On the other hand, we 
must take into account the fact that until recent 
times overweights were accepted more freely 
by insurance companies than underweights. To 
put it in another way, underweights were 
selected with more rigid care than overweights. 
The old idea that an overweight had a reserve 
fund to draw upon in case there was a run on 
his bodily bank was prevalent, although it was 
recognized that excessive fat might be harmful 
and should exclude the risk on the ground, per¬ 
haps, that it was a form of capital which was not 
active. Similarly, an underweight was consid¬ 
ered to be under-capitalized, and if his bodily 
bank had to go through a panic like pneumonia, 
or hard times like organic heart disease, he 
would become insolvent and bankrupt. 

“As a result of this method of thought, our 
underweight mortality is rather better and our 
overweight mortality rather worse than if both 
sets had been accepted under exactly the same 
conditions. But, even if we make full allowance 
for the difference in selection, I am convinced 
that the same percentage of overweight is a more 
serious matter than if it were underweight. The 
excessive weight, whether it be fat or muscle, is 
not a storehouse of reserve strength, but it is a 
burden that has to be nourished, if muscle, and 
that markedly interferes with nutrition and 
function, if fat. This does not apply to the 
young, those below 25 years of age. Here a 
moderate degree of overweight is much more 
favorable than underweight. In fact, up to age 
25 an overweight not to exceed 1 10 per cent of 
the standard is upon the whole good for the 
individual. It seems to indicate a certain hyper¬ 
nutrition and robustness of physique that is 
favorable to the subsequent life. Underweight 
among these young people, on the other hand, 
is unfavorable, and in some cases indicates com¬ 
mencing disease or the tendency thereto. But 
when we pass the age of 30 these conditions are 
reversed, and the difference between overweight 
and underweight in their influence upon vitality 
becomes more marked with each year of age. 

“Of course, for the best interests of health, 
one should be as near standard weight as possi¬ 
ble, and that is the sermon which you should 
preach to your patients. Impress upon them the 
advisability of their being within 10 per cent of 
the standard, for within that range is found the 
lowest mortality and the greatest vitality." 



THE LION AND THE TWO MacCARTHYS 


BY 

CATHERINE MARKHAM 


J ERRY changed his muddy brogans for slip¬ 
pers, and, like a votary entering a temple, 
took up his propitiatory bunch of early rhu¬ 
barb and entered the tidy kitchen whose 
soft pine floor Delia had just scrubbed to 
the appearance of old rose felt. 

“Well/' he remarked, sitting down with a fine 
feint of ease, “ I broached it to his Riverince to¬ 
day as he came by, when I was planting the 
inyuns-" 

“It?" echoed Delia questioningly, a little 
quick tremor of long hope starting in her heart 
—that place where hope lives as long in the dark 
as the fabled seed lives hidden in the pyramid. 

“Sure, the Circus," went on Jerry, ostenta¬ 
tiously careless, as he helped himself to a mealy 
potato smiling at him from the platter. 

Delia, dishing out the crumpled cabbage, 
dropped the spoon on the ivory-white oil-cloth, 
catching her breath in chagrin. The two, the 
housekeeper and the man-of-all-work, were all 
alone in the small, shining kitchen of the Priest's 
house. 

“Wisha thin, Jerry,”—the tart tongue that 
he dreaded was on him now—-“is it that de- 
luthering circus is still in your mouth? God be- 
tune us and harm, it’s like a man throubled by 
the Little People you are, with the circus every 
spring your heart’s desire. An’ what had Father 
Callan to say av it? Sure, it’s aiquil to pinance 
Lin thinkin’ it, to be dhrawin’ up to him such a 
fool av a subject." 

“Well, thin, his Riverince was mild enough," 
explained Jerry, with delicately implied rebuke, 
to the pitiless Delia. “Sez I to him, spadin’ up 
my patch o’ land, sez I, "Father, dear, an’ 
would it be a scandal on me an’ my position here, 

1 do’ know, for me to go down to New York to 
be afther seeing the circus?’ 

"’An’ sez he, wid the laughter dancin’ in his 
eyes, "Is it some new jokes you’d be gethering 
up to clap alongside of thim you brought out 
from Bandon, or is it the lady riding O’s and S’s 
on her head on the bicycle that you do be wantin’ 
to see ? ’ 

‘"God forbid. Father,’ sez I. " It isn’t mesilf/ 
sez I, "would want to be encouragin’ any woman 
328 


tempting death as the likes av thim crathers 
does.’ An’ thin I told him, as many a time have 
I told you in this room, Delia, that since I was 
a barefooted gossoon in Macroom it has been a 
wish in the bottom av me heart to see a live lion. 
An’ sez I to him, "Saint Jerome that my uncle 
the parish priest at Kilmichael christened me 
for, as our family, bein’ large, had used up the 
most av the importantest saints’ names before 
my turn, this Saint Jerome av mine has always 
a livin’ lion wid him in the pictures. An’ it al¬ 
ways comes to me as I think av that holy man 
up in heaven that this same lion is maybe folly- 
in’ him there as Fido here does be follyin’ at my 
heels all day long. And all me life I have been 
wishin’ to come face to face wid a lion, a beauti¬ 
ful, sthrong lion such as him that tuk up wid me 
namesake above.’ As I tould his Riverince 
this, the laughin’ wint out av his eyes, and sez 
he, "Go on, thin, to your circus, an’ God bless 
you, Jerry. ’Tis you isn’t far from the childther 
our holy Saviour said they had the likes av in 
Heaven. I think Saint Jerome would count 
such pious journey aiquil to askin* his prayers !’" 

"‘It’s azy seen his Riverince knows little av 
circuses and cities," was Delia’s caustic com¬ 
ment. "" I think it’s his guardian angels do have 
the busy job kapin’ him out av throuble with 
his soft heart." 

"‘April the first," Jerry continued, ignoring 
the scorn, ""it says in the papers the circus will 
open up in New York. That is of a Chuesday 
next. An’ now, as the plowin’ is done, an’ the 
ground too wet to put in the pittatyies, I think 
I’ll be goin’ to see the beginnin’ av it, God 
willin’." 

“ It’s a long and expinsive journey," Delia re¬ 
marked, ""to see the hide av an animal that’s in 
any picther-book." 

‘"But I’m tollin’ you, Delia," pleaded Jerry, 
""that iver since I knew my pathern saint, I have 
had a cravin’ to see the lion face to face, as I see 
that black cat forninst the stove. Sure, isn’t he 
the baste that is to be converted whin the lion 
and the lamb will lie down side by side? It’s no 
ither baste gets a prophecy like that." 

“ It’s many a lamb will be mutton before that 



CATHERINE MARKHAM 


day,” scoffed Delia. " An' if it's the animals av 
the Bible ye want to clap eyes on, isn’t the ox, 
an’ the ass, an’ the sheep, an’ the hin, an’ the 
chickens in it, too? An’ wasn’t it such as thim, 
an’ not the roarin’ an’ lashin’ ould felly av a 
lion that was in the stable with the Young 
Child? An’ maybe the hin layin’ a bit av an egg 
for the Mother; an’ the lamb lyin’ agin the Baby 
to kape him warrm. Why can’t you be continted 
with thim common crathers here in our own 
barnyard, that was the Little Wan’s furst 
frinds?” 

"Sure enough,” admitted Jerry, "it’s thim 
was in good company, an’ Saint Joseph himself 
makin’ a pet av the lamb. But Saint Joseph is 
not my namesake, an’ somehow afther bringin’ 
that idea av seein’ Saint Jerome’s lion all the 
way over the sea wid me, it seems now to be 
grown into a kind av a promise in me mind; an’ 
I don’t believe, Delia, I could lie azy in me 
shroud that my mother made for me in Ireland, 
an’ that’s up in me thrunk in the camphor paper, 
if l didn’t come face to face before I die wid the 
lion such as used to be in me little black prayer- 
book in Macroom.” 

There was a touch of solemnity about this 
that for a moment silenced the more prosaic 
Delia — some devotion to the ideal that made 
her gasp in the thin air of it. 

"Arrah, go on wid ye thin, for an innocint 
dhramer,” she said, "an’ may your Saint Jerome 
bring you back safe for clanin’ the church and 
plantin’ the garden for uz.” 

Since she could not hold him from the yawn¬ 
ing Babylon beyond, Delia, with many misgiv¬ 
ings, helped him get ready to go to the circus. 
She ironed his best shirt, pressed his best suit, 
whose shining elbows and knees and ageing 
greenishness, "like the dure-steps in Ireland,” 
she had often deplored. 

"It ’ud be fitter for you to be buyin’ yerself 
a new suit av clothes than be throwin’ money 
to the lions,” she railed. "It’s not less than four 
dollars an’ a half^a good nip on a suit—your 
railroad ticket and your circus ticket ’ll takeout 
av ye,” she reckoned. 

" I’m well contint to go without the new suit,” 
Jerry answered cheerfully. "Sure, there’s no 
wan but you, Delia, has an eye on me clothes, 
an’ there’s the brown shroud in me thrunk all 
blessed and ready when I’m called for the thrip 
in the dark-” 

"Don’t be shpakin’ so azy av that shroud,” 
she complained. " It gives me the feelin’ av the 
banshees we was bothered with in Donegal. An’ 
maybe,” she continued with doleful apprehen¬ 
siveness, "the use av that rag av a shroud ain’t 
so far off from you afther all. Ain’t the papers 
full av railroad accidents ivery day av the year 


3 2 9 

—thrains runnin’ into ach other, thrains jumpin’ 
off av the thracks, thrains failin’ through 
bridges; an’ besides, don’t thrains be stopped 
many’s the time, an’ the passengers murdhered 
and robbed? Wisha, man, it’s into dangers 
galore you’re rushin’ blind,” and Delia stopped, 
startled at her own array of terrors. 

Jerry glanced at her, so trim and plump in her 
blue calico, as she stood deftly washing up the 
dishes, and felt a little warm place at his heart 
that she should be so interested in his safety. 
But the wanderlust was on him, and he must 
fare forth. 

"God save us, Delia,” he parried, "sure, the 
ould women niver out av sight av their chimley 
stones in Ireland couldn’t call up more danger 
nor you that’s found the way to America for 
yourself.” 

" It’s because av me thravels I know danger,” 
she retorted. "An’ besides, there’s no more 
dangerous city in the wurrld than New York is, 
especially for sthrangers an’ innocints like your¬ 
self, Jerry. Sure, many’s the time I have heard 
my uncle Terrence, the hack driver in Newark, 
tell av the blacklegs waiting at every depot to 
swingle thim they can intice. People has been 
abducticated an’ never seen again, or poisoned, 
or dhrownded, or marooneyed to the world’s ind, 
or arrested an’ trun in prison for life. An’ if you 
miss thim dangers, there’s autymobiles runnin’ 
you down ivery hour av the day, an’ mad dogs 
roamin’ the sthrates to hyderphobe you, an’ 
policemen arrestin’ you at every corner if you 
don’t move on. It’s beyant me, Jerry, God be- 
tune us and harm, how the likes av you, always 
dhramin’ an’ moonin’, can iver escape doin’ 
something in New York to get into throuble for 
yerself, an’ disgrace to yer frinds.” 

"Sure, I’m not that grane intirely, Delia,” 
protested Jerry. "It’s nine years I’ve been in 
America come Ladyday, and haven’t I me 
natural papers tuk out, an’ me a full Dimmy- 
crat votin’ ivery year to make the laws? They 
can’t put the comether on me so azy altogether, 
Delia me gurrl.” 

"An’ how much money will you be carry in’, 
Jerry?” she inquired. 

" I have in the gray stockin’ in me room a 
hundred dollars,” replied Jerry, "makin’ ready 
to send twelve pounds to me widdy sister for 
the childther for the winter next. Sure, I 
thought I’d take it all wid me, to have the 
feelin’ av plinty on me — not that I’d spind any 
more-” 

"God save you, Jerry, ’tis you makes the 
heart jump out av me,” gasped Delia. "Glory 
be to your St. Jerome, but he’ll have the full av 
his devotions to watch over you. Sure, riches 
like that would tempt every rapscallion av a 




THE LION AND THE TWO MacCARTHYS 


33o 

villyun in the country. They’d smell it on you. 
Do you mark me words an’ take only the four 
or five dollars you will need, an’ lave the rest 
in my kapin’ for you. Do this, an’ the widdy an’ 
fatherless will be safe to get the good av what 
you don’t squandther.” 

But Jerry was obstinate. “ I’ll take out what 
vou say and kape it handy,” he said, “in the 
outside av me wallet in a safe pocket. I’d feel 
lost without that wallet I brought over in the 
ship wid me, an’ it’s a good feelin’ to know you 
have wid you as much as the best you meet.” 

“ But you will be tempted to spind it if it’s 
wid you,” deplored Delia. “You can’t move 
without expinse in New York. For the shortest 
step av a ride, or for a bit to ate or dhrink, it’s 
the hand in the pocket.” 

“Spind it, I will not,” said Jerry. “I’m as 
stingy av that little pile for me sister’s childther 
as e’er a miser. I’ll put the money all but five 
in the middle av the purse, an’ hasp it, an’ never 
touch it till I come back. But I want to walk 
the sthrates carryin’ me head like a man av 
fortune.” 

So Delia said no more. She knew when Jerry’s 
head was set like “the pigs av Drogheda.” 
Monday night Jerry went to bed at dark to get 
ready for an early start. He was up at dawn 
Tuesday to milk the cows and feed the horse. 
Delia had his breakfast ready; and as he gulped 
down his egg and toast, she repeated warnings 
and directions: “ Kape your purse in your safest 
pocket.” “ Don’t lave your hand off av it in 
a crowd.” “ Folly Peter Williams that’s goin’ 
down to-day for his spring stock.” 

Watching all night for the daylight, Jerry 
hadn’t slept well, and the morning was raw. The 
world outside seemed big and inhospitable, and 
Delia had peopled it with horrors forbidding as 
the Anthropophagi of the old Unknown. It was 
indeed safe and cosy in the kitchen, with the 
capable, rosy-cheeked Delia to plan every move. 
Jerry’s spirit was low, and for a moment he had 
a wild thought of giving up the journey and 
staying at home to clean the cellar. But the old 
call of the lion prevailed. Hadn’t Father Callan 
said the trip would be like a little pilgrimage for 
St. Jerome’s sake? So he scalded down his 
coffee, and shook hands solemnly with Delia, as 
if the parting were to be for weeks instead of 
hours. 

“God bless you, Jerry,” said Delia fervently, 
her eyes a little wet, as he turned toward the 
luring lion, his hand already clamped on the 
coat-tail pocket containing his treasure. 

Lonesome and perturbed, she watched him 
out of sight, then fell on her knees and out of the 
little prayer-book kept on the clock shelf read 
painstakingly the litany for those in danger of 


death, this being, she thought, the strongest and 
most appropriate petition for the case in hand. 

Those who venture into peril are proverbially 
happier than those who watch and wait at home. 
It was Jerry’s first ride on the cars since he had 
come up to New Jersey from the Battery nine 
years before, to be Father Callan’s man-of-all- 
work, and soon he forgot his trepidations in the 
delight of adventure and newness. He warded 
off a “likely lad” who besought him to buy 
books and sweets. Delia had warned him against 
the smooth-tongued vender and his “six prices.” 

He was astonished at the continuous stream 
of people getting in at every station, all for New 
York, no doubt, for the opening day of the circus. 
All too soon the train stopped, and he followed 
the crowd into the big ferry-boat as Delia had 
directed. He had kept the tail of his eye on 
Peter Williams, intending to follow that gentle¬ 
man; but an automobile in waiting engulfed 
this one familiar form, and went honking off 
into the world, leaving Jerry in that deepest 
aloneness—solitude in a crowd. 

For one panicky five minutes the traveler 
wished himself back with Delia—Delia at that 
moment saying a rosary for the benefit of those 
in need of the prayers of the church. Here he 
was within hail of his lion; but how to find the 
long-sought one in this wilderness of people ? As 
his heart-beats slowed down, he recalled that he 
had the advertisement of the circus, together 
with other documents, in his pocket-book with 
his money. He started to draw out the wallet, 
fat with precious savings, when suddenly there 
flashed upon him Delia’s warning to let no living 
soul see him take out his pocket-book and thus 
call suspicion on himself as a moneyed man. So 
furtively he thrust the protuberant wallet back, 
meantime dropping from his pocket his last 
letter from his cousin Dennis of Corrigbee. Here 
was a dilemma: he must not look at the purse, 
to expose his treasure-place, and yet how could 
he find the way to the circus without that ad¬ 
vertisement ? 

As he stood pondering, a pleasant-looking 
man standing near said “most mannerly,” as 
Jerry told Delia afterward, “I think this is a 
letter you dropped, my friend. You seem to 
be in some anxiety. Can 1 do anything to help 
you?” 

Jerry, won immediately by the courtesy, re¬ 
plied trustingly: “Sure, I am down from the 
country for the day to see the circus, an’ I do 
clane forget the name av the place they are giv¬ 
ing it. It was a name HkeMedicineGarden, Delia 
said, but where is that I do’ know.” 

“Oh, is that all?” went on the stranger gra¬ 
ciously. “Why, I am going to the circus myself. 

I can not afford to miss being in the crowd on a 



CATHERINE MARKHAM 


day like this. I shall be pleased to guide you on 
your way. We will go together.” 

Jerry gratefully acquiesced, not at all sur¬ 
prised at this politeness. It was the old friendly 
Irish manner of the Fair-Day in Bandon, and, 
of course. New Yorkers would all be going to the 
circus. 

"It is too early yet for the circus,” said his 
guide. "Let us stroll about the streets awhile. 
I think you are from the South of Ireland,” he 
ventured pleasantly, as they walked on. 

"Musha, the saints be praised, an’ how did 
you know I was an Irishman at all, at all?” 
Jerry marveled. "Indade, thin, I am from the 
South like all my blood and breed for many a 
year before me.” 

"And are you a MacCarthy or a MacCaffery ?” 
went on the amazing stranger. 

"Sure, 'tis you do be the mind-reader in- 
tirely,” beamed Jerry, “lama MacCarthy, av 
the MacCarthy Mores and straight down from 
Cormac av Blarney Castle.” 

" I thought as much,” approved the ques¬ 
tioner. "You have a MacCarthy nose and upper 
lip, not to say the accent of thim champeens. 
My father was a MacCarthy Rudh, an’ we do be 
distant cousins by that same token.” 

This tie of blood completed Jerry's trust. 
All care was cast aside under this protecting 
kinsman's guidance, and talk of Ireland poured 
out as they walked, though MacCarthy of Jersey 
did most of the talking, at the skilful question¬ 
ing of the MacCarthy Rudh. 

At noon they began to pass the steaming 
restaurants, and Jerry, hungry enough, looked 
longingly at the food-filled windows. The new¬ 
found friend noted the gaze and declared that 
as the old MacCarthys had often eaten together 
at wakes and weddin's of Cork, so their long- 
separated descendants would to-day eat in 
honor of their ancestors, and eat with the 
quality of America in one of the biggest res¬ 
taurants. "An’ it’s meself knows ivery joint 
av thim from the Bowery to Sherry's,” the 
kinsman declared. " But first how would a 
taste of rale ould Dublin whisky go down?” 

"It’s there I stop,” said Jerry firmly. "It’s 
Delia an’ me are both Father Macchew people 
from Ireland, an' the pledge is on us for good 
an’ all.” 

"Well, thin,” assented the other liberally, 
"we’ll drink to the MacCarthys in tay only, but 
we will put the good will into that.” 

Jerry, secure in the care of so generous and 
experienced a friend, resigned himself to pure 
enjoyment, now and then wishing that Delia 
herself were with him to see how pleasant it was, 
and giving a quick clutch to be sure that the cor¬ 
pulent wallet was safe. They went into a splendid 


331 

white place, afterward described to Delia as "a 
room with the front all one window, and full 
inside of marble tables like rows of white tomb¬ 
stones at Macroom, and with marble floors and 
walls, an' the walls thick with looking-glasses 
that doubled the crowd and the atin', till it 
seemed thousands was there. An’ there was the 
provisions they had, all printed out on a sthrip 
av paper. MacCarthy read off the ray port tome; 
an’ 'tis he that was the fine slick reader, not a 
word stopped him. Faith, I was hungry for 
iverything he mentioned, an’ I said so. An' sez 
he to me, ‘Well, fill up an' charge it to me. It's 
many a dinner I'll eat yet bein' glad I met you, 
MacCarthy More.' An' we had soup, an' eggs, 
an' mate, an’ fish, an' plenty av bread, an’ the 
yallowest butter ye ever clapped eyes on—as 
yallow as the gold itself—an' three kinds av pie 
an’ some small cakes, an’ at the ind the couldest 
pudding out av Greenland. I ate more than 
MacCarthy Rudh, for he was that busy askin’ 
questions about me wages an' me savings, an' 
the rich people where we lived, an' you an’ 
Father Callan, an’ troth it's the good name I 
gev to you, Delia, an’ your cookin' an’ clanin', 
an’ your little pile laid up in the ould blue sugar- 
bowl. 

“‘Wisha,' sez I to MacCarthy Rudh, when I 
saw him handin’ out his three dollars and gettin' 
no change, ‘Wisha, this is the expinsive place 
intirely. Sure, Delia would never listen to step- 
pin’ in here. A quarter is what she bid me give 
for dinner.' 

"‘Well,’ sez he, ‘when friend meets friend 
across the wurrld, the Iaste the one in his own 
town can do is to ask the thraveler has he a 
mouth on him and give him the best while his 
appvtite lasts. An' I well feel it's good luck to 
me to come across you. It’ll be made up to me 
what thrifle I put out in my rayjoicement.' 'Tis 
he had the blandishin' ways wid him.” 

From the restaurant they went on to the cir¬ 
cus. Already the sidewalks along Madison Gar¬ 
den were thronged. The crush and clamor of 
this was up to Jerry’s idea of what city bustle 
ought to be. People surged and shouted. Mag¬ 
nificently tall and fierce policemen were ordering 
them back or forward. The two MacCarthys 
pushed on together. Jerry’s hand was upon the 
wallet, Delia’s warning coming fresh to his mind 
—an astral reminder, perhaps, for Delia at this 
hour was at the sink repeating an Act of Hope 
with all her thoughts upon the wandering 
Jerry. 

"Look out for your purse,” he hissed to his 
friend, as MacCarthy of Manhattan pressed affec¬ 
tionately near him. "'Tis in the skurry av a 
crowd Delia sez the crooks do be thick.” 

" Divil a doubt av that,” assented the other. 


THE LION AND THE TWO MacCARTHYS 


33 ^ 

“Eve Tnown many a pocket imptied here. Is 
your pile in your vest or your coat?” 

“ 1 have it in me tail pocket,” answered Jerry, 
“but niver will me hand lave go av it at the cir¬ 
cus, an’ that I promised Delia.” 

At this MacCarthy Rudh got separated from 
Jerry and wedged in between some women hud¬ 
dled together. Jerry saw him in a moment, 
across the lobby, directing a couple of foreigners. 
He helped them to push through the crowd and 
then worked his way back to his “cousin.” 

At the window Jerry would have bought his 
own ticket. “ Divil a nip do you pay today,” 
said the city friend. “And kape hould av that 
wallet: it's easy it’d be lifted from you here. 1 
see Butterfinger Bill out there now sizin’ up fat. 
No, Jerry, me lad, I am personally conducting 
you this day and keepin’ your money together 
for you, in honor av the good times the grand¬ 
fathers av us had on many a Fair Day, God rest 
their bones.” * 

Jerry’s heart was beating eagerly as they went 
in and got the first scent of the wet sawdust, and 
the keen odors of the wild beasts. He trembled 
excitedly as the dull roar broke on his ears — the 
strange sounds of animals, the jargon of people. 
The camels fascinated him. “ Wisha, God knows 
they look as if they could raymimber the begin¬ 
ning av the wurrld. It’s both wise and tired they 
seem. Sure, I saw that look wance on the face 
av a wise woman av Ballyshee. This woman was 
one that could foresee things and bring down 
charrms. They said she was a changeling baby 
left in a Killarney cradle.” 

The monkeys which his friend fed with munifi¬ 
cent store of peanuts were a delight. “That end 
fellow he is the dead spit av Dennis Clancey av 
Kilmichael; and the little wan could be Timothy 
Mulligan himself whin he gets a joke on a neigh¬ 
bor. Sure, it ’ud be only another grind av a 
machine to make the likes av thim into people 
with shilleghas instead av tails,” quoth Jerry, 
unconsciously putting himself in class with 
Wallace and Darwin as adiscovererof Evolution. 

The hippopotamus he thought “ a slouch av a 
crayther, good for nothing but maybe to thramp 
down a road.” The elephant he declared could 
be tidied up a bit to his own advantage, and the 
giraffe must have “found it convaynient during 
the flood to kape a lookout for the rest.” But 
at none of their cages was he willing to tarry. It 
was for the lion he panted. “ Let us make haste 
to the lion’s dure,” he kept entreating. “It is 
the lion av St. Jerome brought me here today.” 

And around a corner they came upon the 
gilded cage, and there stood the superb male 
lion alert and tawny, and looking a wild welcome 
into Jerry’s awed eyes. 

Involuntarily Jerry lifted his hat and crossed 


himself with a little quick zigzag. “God bless 
you, lion, dear,” he said, forgetful of curious on¬ 
lookers and elate with the feeling of prayer he 
had at early mass on Sunday. “And you are the 
crayther St. Jerome leads around. Sure, it’sonly 
a fine man could be the master av you. I have 
waited long to get acquainted with you meself. 
An’ her inside is your mate. Well, you had good 
taste in pickin’ her out. I’d like to see the both 
av yous out an' leapin' or lazein’ free in your 
long yallow desert. It’s a shame to bring you 
here all cramped up like this—an animal that a 
saint himself tuk up for a companion.’’ Jerry 
would have lingered here the rest of the day, but 
MacCarthy of Manhattan did not relish the at¬ 
tention that was being fixed upon him and his 
companion. By dint of tug and prod and plead¬ 
ing, Jerry finally was induced to move on, look¬ 
ing back over his shoulder to the lion with a 
confidential “ Dominus Vobiscum”—the most 
sacred and sonorous and final utterance he knew. 

To divert him his host MacCarthy led the way 
into the freak department. The midgets made 
him gasp with wonder. “The likes av thim little 
peopleought to be put out under the hawthornes 
in the raths wid thefairy races,” he said earnestly, 
“instead av in here shut from fields and skies. 
Troth, an’ I’d be azy persuaded they are day- 
scindants av thim that marched out av the fields 
av Ireland when the ould families were banished 
by Cromwell. Sure, we know they vanished, but 
where? Didn’t my grandfather’s uncle, Thige 
Haley, God rest him under the Shandon Bells, 
didn’t he see a company av thim at full moon av 
a midsummer night takin’ lave av the bogs an' 
glens they had always owned, an’ startin’ over 
the hills for lands unbeknownst, an’ the air filled 
with their keen little cryin’ and callin’-” 

“Tut, tut, man, don’t be talkin' such things 
in America. People’ud only laugh at you. Your 
uncle maybe had had a sup av the mountain 
dew, an’ the fairies he heard was the crickets in 
the grass an’ the frogs in the rushes-” 

“God forgive you, MacCarthy,” ejaculated 
Jerry with commiseration. “ It’s your own fore¬ 
fathers 'ud cry you down if they heard you. 
Spake azy an’ don’t draw their wrath on uz. 
Faix, I hardly dare look at thim little ones there. 
Lookin’ twice at wan av the Little People av 
I reland was a good chance to go blind; but faith, 
they do dhraw the eyes av a man.” 

MacCarthy Rudh did not care to follow this 
dissertation. He muttered a word that sounded 
like “batty” and dragged his kinsman on. 

Finally there was a mighty blare of the cal¬ 
liope; and the megaphone ordered all to their 
seats. “God bless us,’’ gasped Jerry, “ ’tis that 
fellow has the voice in him that aiquils Gabriel’s 
that’ll wake us on the Last Day.’’ 




CATHERINE MARKHAM 


They filed to their seats in the front row, 
Jerry clutching his pocket-book. The ring was 
full of grotesques preluding the performance 
proper—bewildered country folk looking for 
seats; men walking on stilts, or riding backwards 
on donkeys, or struggling on bicycles that came 
to pieces. The clown in his gorgeous inflation 
of thigh and arm, his robe covered with cryptic 
symbols dating perhaps from Aryan ceremo¬ 
nies, was lurching about unsteadily, speaking to 
people here and there in the audience. He sin¬ 
gled out the responsive countenance of Jerry 
and called mournfully, " I’ve losfmy wife. Did 
you see her anywhere?” 

"Wisha, God knows,” answered Jerry. “It’s 
many a fine woman is here. What was she like 
at all, at all?” 

There was an ecstatic shout from the listeners 
near, and a flush of mortification on the face of 
the city MacCarthy. 

"Say no more,” hissed the cicerone. "They 
are laughing at you. Don’t you see?” 

"Musha, it’s azy enough to lose a woman 
here,” said Jerry unperturbed. “An' phwat har- 
rum to answer a civil question?” 

Presently the nondescripts vanished and the 
grand Oriental pageant swept by—"the kings 
and queens av the wurrld,” Jerry told Delia, 
"with diamonds and rubies like white and red 
currants on the bushes, an' horses under thim 
so proud it was a sin.” 

The tight-rope performance distressed him; 
why should these persons risk their lives walking 
on clothes-lines, and hanging from towel-racks? 
"It’s no fit business for a woman anyhow,” 
Jerry commented. "The time they put in get- 
tin’ the hang av that thrade would make thim 
good cooks in a comfortable kitchen wid a full 
dhress to their backs.” 

The tricks of the animals did not amaze him. 
He did not know but that walking on balls was 
an elephant’s mode of locomotion in the jungle, 
and hadn’t he seen many a pig in the ould coun¬ 
try so intelligent that he would almost spake 
wid you, an’ company for the whole house 
wid his knowin’ ways?” On the whole the 
performance bored him as well as MacCarthy 
Rudh, who confessed that he enjoyed mixing 
free with the crowd, but not sitting "on his 
behavior” in a row, packed like herrings on a 
string. 

The crowd closed around them as they came 
out, at five o’clock, and Jerry clutched the coat¬ 
tail pocket containing the pudgy purse. 

"Well, what next, me brave bouchal,” said 
the guide and friend. 

"I’m obliged to you, I am indeed,” replied 
Jerry, "for treating me like a prince this day 
and loading me wid compliments; but now I’ll 


333 

be takin’ the thrain for home, if you’ll turn me 
towards me thrack.” 

He was thinking that it was milking time now, 
as the sun was slipping off, and Delia would have 
to do the milking, and that little new milch 
mooley was like as not to kick at a strange hand 
on her bag. It was a shame for him to put that 
danger on Delia, and her not used to cows this 
many a day. 

But the friendly lion—he was glad he had 
seen him at last. How was it that people called 
lions fierce? Sure, this wan had a mild soft look 
on him, av thim thinkin’ great thoughts. 

As he mused, MacCarthy of Ballyshee had 
bought an evening paper and was looking at the 
time-table. "The next train goes at 6.30,” an¬ 
nounced the kinsman. "There’s time and to 
spare for that,” and he seemed loth to let Jerry 

go- 

They had stopped in front of a large window 
full of men’s clothing with red placards in¬ 
scribed," Fire-sale,” "Cut to the Quick,” "Come 
in and carry them off.” 

"What would you think,” asked city Mac¬ 
Carthy, "av stepping into this Emporium av 
misery to see if they’d have a suit av clothes to 
your mind we could take out of their way? Sure, 
it’s many sheep was sheared since the cloth on 
you grew.” 

"Thrue for you,” said Jerry, "Delia does be 
always tormintin’ me to get a new suit, for the 
shamrock, she sez, do be sprouting on this. In 
God’s name, let us go in. I’m sorry to take ad¬ 
vantage av any man’s misfortunes, but the 
owner seems implorin’ people to clane up the 
lavin’s.” 

The two walked in. The clerk, sizing up Jerry, 
would have offered a cheap shoddy. "No, no, 
Abraham, me hearty,” interposed MacCarthy 
Rudh, "none av your cotton broadcloth for uz, 
an’ none av your hand-me-downs from your fire 
before last. Give me a good diagonal, some¬ 
thing now that’ll touch the man’s body. You 
'won’t find a better pair av shoulders in New 
York than thim two to spread your stock on. 
Here, Jerry, peel off your coat an’ let Isaac do 
his endayvors on a figger av a man from the 
place where good figgers are built.” 

He helped Jerry pull off the venerable gar¬ 
ment, flinging it carelessly over his own arm, 
while he stood shouting objections and direc¬ 
tions as the minions of the store fetched and 
carried garments at his orders. 

"Good,” he approved at last, as the slender 
shoulders were covered by a garment to his 
taste. "Twenty-five dollars and fifty cents? 
Arrah, be azy. Fifteen dollars I’ll give you for 
this and deliver it to us now. Yes, I understand, 
Jacob, you are doing alms by selling this way. 


THE LION AND THE TWO MacCARTHYS 


334 

These fires and floods that folly you up and these 
donations to the public ought to put you in the 
Poor Farm; but fifteen dollars is my limit.” 

Jerry was aghast at even the lower price, de¬ 
claring it to be impossible, and he began to ex¬ 
plain about the widowed sister, but MacCarthy 
Rudh would not hear a word. 

“ Your company to me this day is worth more 
to me than this dhrib,” he cried munificently. 
“ Let this be a token av rayspect to the dead and 
gone MacCarthys that wore the frieze of County 
Munster. An’ do you kape the new suit on your 
back, Jerry, an' go home to thim like a gentle¬ 
man. We'll have this ould wan put in a bundle 
for you to carry. Come on, Moses, do me a nate 
package av this wid a handle to it. I’ll go wid 
you to see it done right.” 

When the two emerged from the store, Mac¬ 
Carthy Rudh bent every energy to getting his 
country cousin on a car started for home. He 
would listen to no thanks. “No, no,” he said, 
“ I want to be sure that you are dhressed worthy 
av thim in the Kilmichael graveyard. I'll get 
pay enough through matin’ up wid you this day, 
an' don’t you be consarned. 

“An' here is your thrain puffin’ to carry you. 
Do you jump on the platform while I buy your 
ticket. No, no, this is my town an’ I do be doin' 
the honors in the name av the MacCarthys livin’ 
an' dead.” 

As he thrust the ticket into Jerry’s hand, he 
said, “Now, do you go in an’ pick yourself a 
good seat and have little conversation wid any 
wan. 'Mum' is the word that is best in the 
thraveler’s mouth. Raymimber me kindly to 
Delia an’ tell her to come wid you herself next 
time. Good-by to ye, an’ never let the mimory 
av this day go from you.” 

It was nine o’clock when Delia, listening 
eagerly, at last heard the footsteps she had per¬ 
suaded herself she would never hear again. 

“An’ is the lion-tamer home from his rangin’ ? 
she cried, with joy in her voice, standing in the 
kitchen door with the lamp in her hand, her 
best black alpaca dress on, her bog-oak pin in 
her collar, and her black hair banded like satin. 

“ He is that,’’ called Jerry, “after a day fit for 
a king. An’ sure, Delia, that lion met me like an 
ould friend, an’ him that noble an’ razonable 
you’d think he’d make a speech like Danyell 
O’Connell. 1 am glad 1 saw him, but thanks be 
to God I’m home again and fine contented to 
stay.’’ 

“Come in, come in,” beamed Delia, as he 
lingered scraping his boots. “Glory be, what 
magic has come over the looks av you,” and she 
stared at the new suit in amazement. “What 
miracle is this? Sure, you had only fifty cents 


to spare after your expenses. How came you 
by the clothes av a millionaire?” 

And then Jerry poured out the story of his 
meeting a man of the MacCarthys, a fifth cousin 
—“A fine open-hearted man,” hedilated. “Sure, 
the day didn’t cost me a cent. He paid me way 
to dinner, an’ to the circus, an’ home on the 
thrain, an' he pressed this illigant suit on me, 
an’ all in mimory av the MacCarthys whose 
blood is in us both.” 

“Wisha, but fifth cousins is the skim milk to 
give such fine cream,” observed Delia, a little 
jealous of this new idol. “Cousins beyant the 
degree av consanguinity it mentions in the Cate¬ 
chism !—it don’t seem natural for such to warm 
up to aich other in that way, Jerry. An’ still, he 
done you a good turn. An’ did you throw away 
your old suit in your prosperity, an’ your own 
bit av money, did you bring that home safe?” 

“ I never opened me wallet,” triumphed Jerry. 
“ 'Tis safe in me old coat-tail pocket in this 
bundle they tied so nate for me,” and he untied 
the package to show it intact. But in the coat¬ 
tail pocket—Jerry whitened as he drew it out 
under Delia’s searching, scathing eyes—there 
was only a carefully folded evening paper of just 
the dimensions of the portly wallet from Bandon. 

“God betune us an' harrm,” he whispered. 
“It was there when we went into the store. I 
well raymimber the feel av it as I stood at the 
door. It never left the pocket without the hard 
pull. The coat was never out av me hand, but 
when 1 was fitting on the suit, an' then Mac¬ 
Carthy himself was holdin' it.” 

“Maybe it’s a paper that you tuk from here,” 
suggested Delia, “an' left your purse behind you 
upstairs.” 

“Faith, it’s not,” said Jerry emphatically, as 
he opened the paper. “It’s the very same paper 
MacCarthy bought off av an Italian lad loaded 
down with the like. I raymimber well this pic- 
ther av a man hangin' on a gallus on the first 
leaf, and this large red print ‘Jerked to Glory,’ 
standin’ alongside av it.” 

“Jerry,” cried Delia impressively, “only 
the mercy av God, maybe jogged in his mimory 
by your St. Jerome, has brought you back 
safe. That MacCarthy was the villyun av the 
wurrld-” 

“ But, Delia,” protested the bewildered vic¬ 
tim, “in the name av St. Pathrick, how did he 
ever know I was a MacCarthy in the first place, 
an’ why would he think the likes av me was 
carrying a little fortune in me coat-tail pocket ?” 

“ Sure, villyuns like thim has their eyes peeled 
for phlunder. He got your namefrom the invelop 
from your cousin Dennis you say you let fall, an’ 
he thought the bulk av the wallet he caught 
the wan glimpse av would mane full an’ plinty 


CATHERINE MARKHAM 


av money, an’ so he stuck to you thryin’ to 
find manes av gettin’ the wallet you held onto. 
Twas for the black threachery he enticed the 
coat off av you an’ thin put in his tidy paper to 
feel all right in its place, an’ you convarsin’ 
innocintly wid the darks av the store.” 

“God forgive me,” cried Jerry, “for me pride 
that wanted to carry me little fortune wid me. 
Tis that divil’s pride has robbed me poor sisther 
av her rint on Barrett's plowland, an’ her chil- 
dher av their porridge an’ clothes. ’Tis a pinance 
on me. But that don't feed the hungry an' 
cover the naked—how can 1 make it up to thim, 
God forgive me?” 

“You had the fair warnin’ av danger, Jerry,” 
said Delia, mercilessly rubbing in the rue. “ It's 
a wonder your food wasn't poisoned in the res¬ 
taurant by that blaggard, or you sand-bagged 
an’ trun in the river an’ niver seen again.” 

Jerry had no defence. He sat, the picture of 
misery, hurt to the quick and humbled by ad¬ 
versity. Even the memory of the lion had lost 
its virtue. To find out you have loved one who 
was only “deludhering” you, is to experience 
the shock of stepping on air and nothingness, 
when you have expected foothold of granite. 

“Arrah wirra, but he was the companionable 
man, that bloody scoundrel,” Jerry deplored. 
“ Phv thin did he load me with compliments an' 
prisents only to rob me av me widowed sisther’s 
money? An' not alone the money, but that 
wallet itself that I had from me brother Barry at 
Bandon as we was partin'? An’in it was prayers 
and acts and meditations I’ve been pickin' 
up since I was confirmed. An' there was all 
thim fine ould ballads, ‘The Banks av Corrig- 
bee,’ an’ ‘Irish Molly 0 / an’ twinty other 
‘Come-all-yees.’ Ochone, an’ poor indade he 
has left me av money an’ thresure!” 

“Thrue for you, an’ Sin an' Death hung over 
you the day long,” agreed Delia, a Cassandra 
somewhat consoled by her own prescience. “ 1 
had warnings in me dreams for three nights last 
week. An’ the house was full av tokens all day. 
Fido howled till there was no rist, an’ a bone 
wouldn’t hush him; an' the speckled hin crew 
three times. ’Tis I kep’ the rosaries and litanies 
goin’ for you till I heard you back at the gate.” 

“But your prayers didn’t hould the money 
for me, Delia,” responded Jerry a little ungrate¬ 
fully. “Why wouldn’t it have been as azy to 
thim above to save me money for the widdy an’ 
orphans as to lave it go to a black villyun like 
that MacCarthy?” 

“Well, thin, Jerry,” quoth Delia with con¬ 
viction, “there's some things so simple the 
saints don’t need to bother their minds wid 
thim. They expect some sinse in people below. 
It was put into me heart all along, by your hard- 


335 

worked guardian angel, as like as not, that you 
was bound to be plundhered. So this morning, 
an’ it seems tin years ago now, up I goes to your 
room as you was milkin' the cow, an' I grabs 
your pocket-book an' takes out all but four 
dollars av your money to kapeforyou as I asked 
you to do yourself. An’ here in the tea-cannister 
is the money just as I found it, safe an’ sure 
for you. You had giv' me your void, Jerry, 
not to open that hasp, an’ I knew you wouldn’t 
miss the money all day, an’ I was goin’ to watch 
my chanst to steal it back an’ say nothin’. So 
glory be, there is your money in spite av yoursilf.” 

Jerry had listened in joyous amazement, and 
he grasped the bills wrapped and tied as he had 
left them, and counted them with little gasps 
and gurgles, and then clasped Delia's two hands 
in his own. 

“The money safe after all,” he cried, his 
spirits lark-glad. “Arrah wisha, Delia, 'tis you 
has the head av agineral on you. Phat 'ud I do 
widout you at all, at all, now? Sure, my mind 
was runnin’ back to you all day long. That vill¬ 
yun MacCarthy — I misdoubt faix that he was a 
MacCarthy at all, but maybe wan av thimOrange- 
min plavin’ to be av a daycint family — but sez 
he, ‘ Raymimber me kind’y to Delia, an’ tell her 
to come wid you herself next time.’ He saw I 
needed care, an’ God knows I do. Wisha, Delia, 
thin, would you take the job for good an’ all ?” 

Delia’s face had flushed and softened to girlish 
sweetness. “ Sure, Jerry,you do bewildther me,” 
she said, really surprised, although she had 
served seven years hoping some day to hear this 
same invitation. “ But ’tis I will be good an’ 
true to you, an’ not spare you advice, an’ plaze 
God we’ll have the banns called next Sunday.” 

As they sat drinking their tea. after a blissful 
supper of Delia's best, Father Callan came in to 
hear of the lion. Jerry poured out his impres¬ 
sions and adventures, ending with the theft of 
the wallet told in dramatic recital. 

The priest listened with keen interest. But 
at the story of the lost wallet, Father Callan, to 
Jerry’s surprise, showed neither grief nor wrath. 
Instead, the kitchen rang with the priest’s 
laughter. 

“So, Jerry, my bov, instead ‘of the crook’s 
working you, you wwked the crook,” he cried, 
laughing again and again. “You and Delia and 
St. Jerome worked the poor crook for nearly 
forty dollars. Bv the fighting St. Michael, I’d 
like to have seen that light-fingered lad when he 
found, after his strenuous day, instead of the 
golden reward of industry and courtesy, only 
the Bandon wallet full of songs and prayers. 
Jerry, Jerry,” he roared, “I little thought the 
likes of you was going down to work the crooks 
of New York.” 



EDITORIAL 


THE KUROPATKIN MEMOIRS 


The publication in McClure’s Magazine of 
General Kuropatkin's History of the Russo- 
Japanese War has elicited a storm of newspaper 
controversy in Europe. Reviews have come into 
the office of this magazine by hundreds, and all 
the great Continental newspapers have pub¬ 
lished digests and summaries of the articles. 

Mr. Kennedy, the Associate Press Correspond¬ 
ent, writes from Tokio: 

“My dear Mr. McClure: 

“ Allow me to congratulate you and thank 
you. The Kuropatkin thing has taken the whole 
place by storm out here, and with a little more 
judicious advertising you will have to send about 
twenty times the number of magazines to Japan, 
and I doubt if that would fill the order. Every 
vernacular paper has taken the thing up. I sent 
my two copies to-day to Komura at Denison's 
request. They had cabled to San Francisco from 
the Foreign Office, but Denison said 1 would help 
them if I let them have my copies and they 
would pay me back. The foreign newspapers, 
too, are reprinting large wads of the stuff, and 
altogether it is quite cheerful to see the avidity 
with which it is being gobbled up in all lan¬ 
guages.” 

La Guerre Sociale, of Paris, says: 

“As in all wars, one suspected that the one 
which set Russia and Japan against each other 
had some unclean secret history. 

“To-day we have the evidence itself. In an 
essay appearing in the American review, Mc¬ 
Clure’s Magazine, General Kuropatkin reveals 
the true origin of that butchery.” 

The Swiss Liberate (Neuchatel) prefaces a 
long digest of the first Kuropatkin article as 
follows: 

“The sensation of the day is the first install¬ 
ment of the Memoirs of General Kuropatkin, 
published by an American review, McClure's 
Magazine. 

“ Kuropatkin's revelations of the immediate 
cause of the Russo-Japanese War provoked in 
Russia a redoubling of wrath against the respon¬ 
sible authors of that tragic adventure. These 
are some of the high personages of the Em¬ 
peror's entourage. The Imperial family itself 

336 


is bespatted. The Tsar presents therein his usual 
figure of a man, good, but weak and deceived, 
whom unscrupulous people drag along in their 
machinations. . . . 

“ Kuropatkin's revelations are going to be 
passionately exploited against the Russian 
autocracy and against the Camarilla which 
surrounds the Tsar and the grand dukes.” 

Badiscbe Lands^eitung (Mannheim): 

“Can one imagine any disclosure that would 
more strikingly picture the carelessness and 
light-mindedness of the court circles of Russia 
than this report of the Minister of War, who him¬ 
self, even in his heavy anxiety, did not begin to 
realize the immensity of the catastrophe await¬ 
ing his country? 

“These revelations of Kuropatkin are a proof 
that warnings in plenty were given to the 
influential circles of Russia and that they 
steered into destruction not blindly but with 
open eyes.” 

UIntransigeant (Paris) says editorially: 

“ Kuropatkin publishes in America, after 
having put himself in shelter from the Imperial 
lightnings, a study of the Russian War which 
is destined to cause a sensation. 

“From this study, from the documents that 
accompany it, and from the recitals there pre¬ 
sented, one reaches the conclusion that the war 
was wanted, was rendered inevitable by specu¬ 
lators, by Russian stock jobbers who had the 
shrewdness to attach to their cause the grand 
dukes, the directors of Russian politics, and, as 
Kuropatkin affirms, the Emperor himself. 

“The Russian stock jobbers lost Corea, but 
they made millions in the sale to the Russian 
army and navy of cannons which did not go off, 
of burned coat cloth, of bad coal, of oils floating 
on the top of barrels which were filled three- 
quarters with water.” 

The Tablet (London): 

“It is small wonder that General Kuro¬ 
patkin's memoirs have been suppressed in 
Russia. The extracts now published in America 
in McClure's Magazine confirm the worst 
suspicions as to the sordid origin of the war 
with Japan.” 


McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



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20 Eames 

21 Ancona 

22 Campanar' 

23 Scotti 

24 Battistini 

25 Melba 

26 Plancon 

27 Eames 

28 Calve' 


The actual living, breathing voices of 
the world's greatest opera singers in all 
their power, sweetness and purity. 

Hear the Victor — any Victor dealer will 
gladly play it for you. $10 to $300. 


To get best results, use only Victor Needles on Victor Records 




18 









iV*. 


McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 




New Victor Records 

for January 


on sale throughout America on December 28 


Accompaniments by the Victor Orchestra 


10-inch—60 cents 


•‘Fairest of the Fair” March No. 5621 ...Sousa s Band 

Italian Riflemen March No. 5602_Arthur Pryor s Hand 

Georgia Sunset— Cakewalk No. 5607.Arthur Pryor's Band 

Madeleine Waltz No. 5600 

.Victor Orchestra. Walter B. Rogers. Conductor 

Fun at a Barber Shop No. 5622 Banjo Solo. Vess L. Ossman 
There Never Was a Girl Like You No. 5630 

. Harry Macdonough 

When Jack Comes Sailing Home No. 5598 

.Harvey llindermeyer 

Farewell Address to the Navy No. 5632 

.. ... Admiral Robley D. Evans 

Annie Laurie No. 5610. .Alan Turner 

Over on the Jersey Side No. 5631.Billy Murray 

Our Boarding House No. 5616.Nat M. Wills 

Sulilvail (from “The American Idea") No. 5617 

...Biiiy Murray and Haydn Quartet 


Sweetheart Town No. 5624, .Billy Murray and Haydn Quartet 
Alabani' (from “The Broken Idol*') No. 5618 

.Collins and Harlan 

Flanagan’s New Year's Call No. 5620 

Descriptive SpeciaJty .Steve Porter 

Moving Day at Pun’kin Center No. 5619 

Yankee Talk. .Cal Stewart 

When We Are M-A-R-R-I-E-D (from “ Talk of New 

York") No. 5625..Miss Jones and Mr. Murray 

Good Evening, Caroline No. 5627 

..Miss Stevenson and Mr. Stanley 

Sally In Our Alley No. 5628 .Whitney Brothers Quartet 

The Little Red Drum No. 5629 . . .Whitney Brothers Quartet 
“ W r ith Us In Tyrol ** No. 52010 German Chorus with 

yodel.... .Pircher Alpensingere 

Black Forest Polka No. 52902 Bells.Albert Mullet 

Carmen-Hahanera No. 52013 Whistling Solo 

.Guido Gialdinl 


12-inch—$1 


Venus on Earth Waltz No. 31722.Sousa's Band 

Pamplona Waltz No. 31711 

.... . Victor Dance Orchestra. Walter B. Rogers, Conductor 
Caprice Brllliante No. 31721 Cornet Solo.. Herbert L. Clarke 

The Ninety and Nine No. 31714.Harold Jarvis 

Tliy Sentinel Am I No. 31719. .Alan Turner 

When I Get Back Again to Bonnie Scotland 

No. 5800,2.Harry Lauder 


The Flag He Loved So Well No. 31720 Burlesque 

Military Ballad...Nut M. Wills 

“ Excelsior " Up-to-date \ , 

" Fishing ” 

Huguenots—O vago suol della Tnrenna (Mejerbeer) 
(Fair Land of Touraine) In Italian No.58407. .Giuseppina Huguet 


No- '1 *- » Vthitney Brothers Quartet 


New Victor Red Seal Records 


Marcella Sembrich, Soprano 
Semlramlde—Bel rnggfo lusingliler (Rossini) (Bright 
Gleam of Hope) No. 88141 12-inch. $3 In Italian 
Linda di ( hamounlx-O luce <11 quest' anlma (Doni¬ 
zetti! (Guiding Star of Love !) No. 88142 12-inch, $3 In 
Italian 

Vesprl Sicilian! -Bolero, “ Meree dilette amiche" 

(Verdi) {Dear Friends, We Now Must Part) No. 88143 
12-incli, S3 In Italian 

Ernestine Schumann-Heink, Contralto 


Treue Llohe (True Love) 
10-inch. J2 In German 
Irish Love Song (Lang) 


(German Folk Song) No. 87021 
No. 87022 10-inch, {2 In English 


Emmy Destinn, Soprano 

Mignon—Kennat du das Land ? (Thomas) (Knowest Thou 
the Land ?) No. 91083 10-inch, |2 In German 
Madama Butterfly—Sal cos’ ehbe more (Puccini) (Do 
You Know, My Sweet One) No. 91084 10-inch. J2 In Italian 
Madama Butterfly—IJn bel di vedremo (Puccini) 
(Some Day He'll Come l) No. 92057 12-inch, J3 In Italian 
Aida—O Vaterland (Verdi) (Oh. My Fatherlandj No. 92058 
12. inch, J3 In German 

Evan Williams, Tenor 

Queen of Sheha—Lend Me Your Aid, Part II (Gounod) 
No. 64096 10-inch, Jl In English 

Violin Solo by Mischa Elman 
Rondo Capriccioso—Introduction (Saint-Saens) No. 71038 
12-inch, with piano, $1.50 


Victor Double-faced Records. 10 -inch 75 cents; 12 -inch $ 1 . 25 . 


Victor Records are in a class by themselves— 
above price competition. 

They are not only works of art—perfect rendi¬ 
tions by the world’s best talent—but are masterpieces 
of record-making, embodying the skill of the most 
expert chemists and highest-class artisans. 

Victor Talking Machine Co., Camden, N. J., u. s. A. 

Berliner Gramophone Co., Montreal, Canadian Distributors 


New Victor Records are on sale at all dealers on the 28th of each month 


19 































1 


McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 




Indestructible 
Records 35 c 


Fit any Cylinder Machine 
and Last Forever 


To owners of cylin¬ 
der machines f of every 
make—Columbia and others : 

Columbia Indestructible 
Cylinder Records won’t break, 
no matter how roughly they are 
used; they won’t wear out, no matter 
how long they are played. Moreover 
their tone is far purer, clearer and more 
brilliant than that of any other cylinder 
record made. 


If your dealer does not carry Columbia 
Indestructible Cylinder Records, send us 
35 cents and we will send you a sample by 
return mail, postage paid—with a catalog. 


Manufacturers of high grade disc and cylinder Columbia Graphophones—$20 to $200—Send for catalo 

COLUMBIA PHONOGRAPH COMPANY, GEN’L, Tribune Building, NEW YORK 


* * a tv . STORES OR DEALERS IN ALL CITIES 

MAIN STORES: 35 West 23d Street, New York : 88 Wabash Avenue. Chicago; 953 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco ; 164 Tremont Street, Boston 
HEADQUARTERS FOR CANADA: 107 Ycnge Street, Toronto, Ont. 

DEALERS WANTED-Exclusive 


selling rights given where we are not properly represented 


20 







McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 




Double-Disc 
Records 65c 


Fit any Disc Machine 
and Double its Value 


To owners of 
disc machines , of every 
make — C o lumbia and 
others: We guarantee 

you a better record on each 
side of the Columbia Double- 
Disc Record than you ever 
bought before under any name 
at any price—better in surface, tone and dur¬ 
ability. Be sure you see a Columbia dealer, 
hear the records played, and get a catalog. 

If your dealer does not carry Columbia 
Double-Disc Records, we will send you a 
sample, postage paid, for 65 cents, and a 
catalog with it. 


Manufacturers of high grade disc and cylinder Columbia Graphophones—$20 to $200—Send for catalog 
COLUMBIA PHONOGRAPH COMPANY, GEN'L, Tribune Building, NEW YORK 

STORES OR DEALERS IN ALL CITIES 

MAIN STORES: 35 West 23d Street. New York ; 8fl Wabash Avenue. Chicago ; 953 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco; 164 Tremont Street, Boston 
HEADQUARTERS FOR CANADA: 107 Yonge Street, Toronto. Ont. 

JOBBERS WANTED —Exclusive Columbia jobbing rights open In choice territory 











McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


i 



anything except 

PEARLINE-MODERN SOAP. 


POWDER OF SOME SORT 
MOST OF THE TIME 
BY MOST OF THE PEOPLE 

A careful census shows that NINE 
TENTHS of the Women use a Washing 
Powder. The others might be called the' 
"Submerged Tenth". Some use SOAPY 
powders.others NON-SUDSING powders 
with Soap, but Powder of some sort Most 
of the Time — by Most of the People. 

CJ The Well-to-Do —those who have the 
Finer things to care for—who use Wits in 
stead of Muscles, use PEARLINE, the 
ORIGINAL and BEST Soap Powder. 

<][ The more Intelligent and Careful the 
Woman the more surely is she a PEAR¬ 
LINE User. She knows PEARLINE 
insures Perfect Cleanliness with Least Labor, 
that PEARLINE is Harmless to Skin- 
Fabrics and Colors —in fact it preserves 
them. Think of the Saving in washing 
without rubbing —PEAR LINE does that. 






The Complete Outfitting of Children 

Our facilities for outfitting boys, girls and infants, include 
every article of attire in grades adapted for all purposes. 

Warm, durable materials for rough-and-ready wear, better 
qualities for general use, and the finest goods, exquisitely 
hand-finished. 

All our garments, even the most inexpensive, are thoroughly 
well made, and offered in distinctive and individual styles. 

Catalogue of Winter Fashions 

illustrating the latest New York styles for misses, youths, 
children and infants, with complete descriptions and prices, 
mailed to any address upon receipt of four cents (in stamps) 
to cover cost of mailing. 

Long Distance Shopping 

Our thoroughly organized Mail Order Service extends to 
distant patrons the same prompt and efficient attention accorded 
to those who shop in person. Our broad guarantee makes this 
store the most reliable and satisfactory place to completely out¬ 
fit children and infants. 


Address Dept. 5. 60-62 West 23d Street 

22 


NEW YORK 


1 

















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


Fresh-air heating 


• All fathers and mothers 
agree that if any of the 
family deserve or need a 
room that is just right to 
sleep in and to play in, it 
is the children. It means 
so much to their futures 
to surround their youth 
with the pure and healthful 
conditions which come 
from well-warmed and 
ventilated rooms. 




for Hot-Water and Low-Pressure 
Steam Heating warm the air without 
robbing it of its purity. There is no 
[BOILERS scorc hed air, no ash-dust, no coal- 
gases, or cellar-gases to work injury 
to the health, as arises from the use of old-fashioned heating methods. 


Radiators 


In many cities and in some states the law now compels that all newly built schools 
shall be warmed and ventilated by Steam or Hot Water. If your child is thus 
wisely, sanitarily protected in school, why not yourself adopt this right way of 
heating your home, since the prices are now so reasonable, and the outfits can 

so simply be put into homes already built? 

IDEAL Boilers and AMERICAN Radiators are a 
substantial paying investment, as they will outlast 
the building. Their purchase will increase the sales 
and rental value of the building, and they will soon 
repay their cost in savings of fuel, labor, repairs, and 
in the lessened house-cleaning and wear on carpets 
and furnishings. 

A No. 020 IDEAL Boiler and 262 ft. of 38-in. AMERICAN 
Radiators, costing the owner $ 185 , were used to Steam 
heat this cottage, at which price the goods can be bought 
of any reputable, competent Fitter. This did not include C 09 t 
of labor, pipe, valves, freight, etc., which installation is extra 
and varies according to climatic and other conditions. 

months of cold weather still ahead! Sales Offices and Ware- 


dept. 21 American radiator C ompany CHICAGO 




23 




















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Karpen True Mission will always be a favorite with lovers of good furniture. There 
is something especially attractive in its severely simple lines—its ample roominess—its suggestion 
of solid comfort. The growing demand for this style has brought into the market an enormous 
amount of poorly built, nameless furniture miscalled “Mission”—freakish pieces that are nothing 
short of an outrage against the substantial construction and classic beauty of the True Mission 
You do not want “Cheap” Mission Furniture in your house, especially when you learn that you 
can obtain Karpen True Mission at the same prices. There is only one way to protect yourself— 


Send for the Free Karpen Style Book JK 


You are in danger of imposition if you select even a 
single piece of upholstered furniture without the guid¬ 
ance of this book. It is the only available and authentic 
book treating of furniture, correctness as to style and 
design. The Karpen Style Book contains 72 pages— 
over 500 photographic reproductions of upholstered 
furniture suitable for every room in the house—Karpen 
authentic reproductions of not only Mission, but Louis 
XVI, L’Art Nouveau, Flemish, Colonial and Modern 
Furniture of rare beauty and worth. It is sent free on 
request —invaluable to those contemplating the pur¬ 
chase of furniture. 

Remember, that on Karpen Furniture alone will you 
find a trade-mark with a guarantee back of it. Karpen 


best genuine Sterling Leather is the tough outside of 
the hide—and is guaranteed. Karpen Fabric coverings 
are beautiful and honest in material—Karpen Springs 
are U. S. Government Standard. 

Write for the handsome, beautifully illustrated Kar¬ 
pen Furniture Style Book today. It’s l 1 REE. It will 
help you to a wise selection and save you money. In 
our reply we will give you the name of the dealer author¬ 
ized to make you a special introductory price. 

Your best local dealer has Karpen Guaranteed Up¬ 
holstered Furniture. 

Ask for Karpen Furniture and look for the Karpen 
trade-mark (shown below). It is your safeguard and 
guarantee. 


S. KARPEN <S BROS. 


Karpen Building, CHICAGO 


Karpen Building. NEW YORK 


Karpen guaranteed upholstered furniture has been selected for all the rooms of the magnifi¬ 
cent new Senatorial office building at Washington, in competition with manufacturers everywhere 


24 





































/// i 


N 


McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



The Positioning Pins 
and Perforated Blade 


A SAFETY razor should 
be safe. You can’t 
have safety if there 
is any way for the blade 
to slip. The blade must 

be absolutely secure. 

With a “ safety ” razor you have a 
removable or interchangeable blade. 
You can slide it in position—the diffi¬ 
culty is to keep it there ! 

Clamps and springs are uncertain. 
A spring weakens with use. There 
must be no variation—no vibration — 
nothing left to chance. 

You can’t be trusted always to see 
that you have placed the blade exactly 
in alignment. 

There must be something to pre¬ 
vent your placing it any other way— 
something to insure the blade being 
held in exact position with relation to 


the guard. 

The Gillette is the only safety 
razor that does not attempt to clamp 
the blade by one or more of its sides 
(a razor blade as hard and slippery as 
glass) and to hold it by the pressure , or 
spring principle. 

A Gillette blade has three round 
perforations. When you drop it over 
the three positioning pins it can’t slip. 
It can’t get away. The blade is in 
perfect alignment. You can’t place it 
out of position if you try. 

How it is held there in a vice-like 
grip wc shall explain another time. 

There is no razor like the Gillette 

no handle, no blade like it. Any 
man can use it. It makes shaving 
easy no matter how tough the beard 
or tender the skin. No stropping, no 
honing. 

Standard set $5.00- On sale every¬ 
where. 


New York. Times Bldg. GILLETTE SALES CO. 

Chicago, Stock Exchange Bldg. Kimball Building, Boston 

Factories: Boston, Montreal, London, Berlin, Paris 


Canadian Office 
63 St. Alexander Sr. 
Montreal , ^ui, 


25 




McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 





Take a Couple of Sheets of 

hold them diagonally before you, grip them firmly in both hands, 
then jerk them, pull them, strain them, try to tear them apart. 


THE DE LUXE BUSINESS PAPER 

will stand this test or any other you can name 
where all “near bond” business papers fail. 

It’s the brand new rag, the finest, toughest factory clippings, and the slow 
old-fashioned semi-handmade way they’re worked together that give to 
its unequalled resisting power and strength. The supe¬ 
rior quality and worth of this splendid paper is evident in every sheet; 
not one weak or imperfect spot can be found in a thousand reams. 

Wise buyers who demand stationery worthy of their business 
prestige are the buyers who take heed to ©©Ctf® 

Write us for samples of this splendid paper in all colors. 
AMERICAN WRITING PAPER COMPANY 


Largest Manufacturers of Writing, Book and Cover ; 
and other papers for Business Purposes. 29 Mills, 

HOLYOKE, ..... 


MASS. 




Then make this test with any other business paper. 


26 









McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



TRAINING 

Outweighs Long Service 

There is no better proof of this than the everyday scenes of long-service 
untrained employees at the beck and call of younger men who occupy the big posi¬ 
tions because of their training. It’s a case of Training vs. Long Sendee—with the 
odds all in favor of the trained man. 

Get out of the untrained rut. Mark the attached coupon and let the International 
Correspondence Schools of Scranton tell 
you how you can qualify for a better 
position. How you can protect yourself 
against servitude in your old age. How 
you can become an expert at your chosen 
line of work . No necessity for leaving 
home. No books to buy. Mark the cou¬ 
pon. It will bring you advice and infor¬ 
mation worth dollars to you. Marking the 
coupon puts you to no expense and places 
you under no obligation. Mark it NOW . 

HOW THE I.C.S. RAISES SALARIES 

That the Business^f the I.C.S. is to Raise 
Salaries is shown by the monthly average of 300 
letters VOLUNTARILY written by students report¬ 
ing salaries raised and advancement won through 
I. C. S. help. During October the number 
was 274. 

So long as you can read and write there’s 
an I. C. S. way by which you can succeed in 
life. Let the I. C. S. tell you what it is. 

MARK THE COUPON NOW. 


SALARY-RAISING COUPON 


INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE SCHOOLS 

Box 814 , Scranton, Fu. 

Please explain,wiihont farther obligation on my part, how 

I can qualify for employmen t or adtaucement iu the position 
before which I have marked X 

Bookkeeper 
Stenographer 
Advertisement Writer 
Show Cord Writer 
M’indow Trimmer 
Commercial Law 
Illustrator 

Civil Service 

Chem 1st 

Textile Mill Supt- 
Electrlclan 

Elec. Engineer 

Slecban. Draughtsman 
Telephone Engineer 
Elec. Lighting Hup). 
Mech. Engineer 
Plumber A Steam Fitter 
Stationary Engineer 
Civil Engineer 
Building Contractor 
Archltee’l Draughtsman 
Arch 1 tect 

Structural Engineer 
Banking 

Mining Engineer 

Nome 


Street and No. 


flltj 

StM* . - 




27 





















I 



McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


orma 


lmire 


t 


The only, train Chicago toSouthern 
CjJj/hnihLilii Qfz dm <‘y ('{!:>!'■ ■ 
hor /it'slclass travel. Allot fees also 
carry tourist sleepers and second 


Block-signals 
dust-less “tracts 
and courteous 


assenaevs 


7 


1 1 orn la 3 winter emirate* 
passes tkat of Egypt 


service 




rip V>« request 
■i&ffft? equipment this season 

W j'Blaclv.PassTratficMgr.ATS’5FR\-.Systetti 
1114‘ D Railway Exchange. Chicago. 
























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



You Can Hire This 
Servant To Keep 
Your Entire House 
Spick and Span For 
10c. a Month! 


Old Dutch Cleanser 


chases dirt. It cleans the house from cellar to attic with very little help from 
you. Old Dutch Cleanser contains no acids, caustic or alkali. It cleans 
mechanically , not chemically. It does every kind of cleaning— 

Cleans, Scrubs, Scours, Polishes, 

and does it easier, quicker and better than old-fashioned soaps and scouring 
bricks. It saves labor, time and expense. 

If you cannot obtain Old Dutch Cleanser immediately, send 10c. in stamps 
and we will gladly pay 22c. postage to send you a full size can. 

Sold by all Grocers, in Large, Sifting-Top Cans, 

Send for free booklet, “Hints for Housewives.” 

THE CUDAHY PACKING CO., 118—33d St., So. Omaha, Neb. 

(Branch) Toronto, Canada 




29 










McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 




IIHHtUNWEREBftBl 


T he peck-williamson company underfeed 

SYSTEM OF HEATING produces the same satisfactory 
results, whether applied to warm-air furnaces, steam or hot 
water plants. There is nothing uncertain about it. The 
UNDERFEED does what no other heating system ever devised 
can do—gets as much clean, even heat out of cheapest slack as 
highest priced anthracite will yield. 

P eck-W illiamson (Furnaces —Warm Air 
U N D E R F E E D (Boilers— Steam sWater 
.Save */z to on Goal Bills 

There’s a heap of difference in the cost and this difference belongs to you . The 
UNDERFEED method of stoking—all the fire on top and fuel fed from below—compels 
gas and smoke to pass thru the red hot coals. They are entirely consumed. That means 
more heat. In old-fashioned furnaces and boilers this is wasted . Scores of municipalities 
have endorsed the Underfeed method of coal burning as conducive to no smoke and better 
health. Ashes are few and arc removed by shaking the grate 
bars as in ordinary furnaces and boilers. 


This 8hows the Steam and 
Hot ll'atcr Underfeed Boiler. 


Illustration shores furnace with- 
out casing , cut array to shore how 
coal is forced up under fir e, which 
bums on top. 


Howard Shordon, after three years of satisfactory 
Underfeed experience, writes from Ft. Wayne, Ind.: 

“ The fuel cost of heating a house with 
one of these furnaces Is only about one- 
third the cost compared with the top- 
feed kind, and they work perfectly satis¬ 
factory in every way. My fuel bills for 
the past three years have been — 
1906, $21.00; 1907, $23.00, and 1908. 
824.00. I have an eight-room house and 
burn West Virginia slack.” 

We’ve stacks of letters just like this. 
We’d like to send you a lot of fac-simile 
testimonials and our Underfeed Booklet 
for warm air heating or our Special 
Catalog of Steam and Hot Water _ 

Underfeed Boilers. 

Beating plans and services ot our 
Engineering Department are yours 
^ —ALL FREE. Write to-day, giving 
name of local dealer with whom 
you prefer to deal. 

the PECK-WILLIAMSON co. 

426 W. 5th St. Cincinnati. 0. 

Furnace and Hardware Men and 
Plnmbcrs are all invited to Write 
for oar 1909 Selling Plana. 


30 
































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Now -for a Pair of Genuine 

Holeproof Sox 


Those who have heretofore paid 25c for 
inferior goods can now have the best at that 
price. For you can now buy six pairs of 
“Holeproof” Sox (formerly $2) for $ 1.50. 

We are now able to give you the same sox and save you 50c 
on the six pairs. Yet we don’t have to alter our quality, nor 
change our expensive process. The reason is this: 

The Best Yarn Now Costs Us 
1 Oc Less Per Pound 

We now pay an average of 63c per pound for our yarn. 

Before, we paid 73. The best Egyptian and Sea Island cot¬ 
ton yarn—the softest and finest—now costs us 10 cents less per 
pound. So the saving is all in the market price of yarn—and 
that’s a real saving because you get the same quality though 
you pay less. The saving is yours—not ours. 

All makers now pay less for their yarn. But they’re not 
cutting the price of their sox. They are simply making more 
profit. We are using this opportunity to reduce our price. So 
the best sox now cost no more than brands of inferior grades. 

It remains for you to take this advantage — to ask for the 
best, and insist on it. 

31 Years 

to Make the First Pair 

It took 31 years of constant improvement to perfect "Hole 
proof” Sox. 

"Holeproof” are the original “guaranteed-six-months” sox. 

You cannot get more for $1.50 than you get in six pairs of “Hole’ 
proof.” They are the most satisfactory sox that are sold today. 

Over 100 imitations have been placed on the market since 
“Holeproof” became a success. So don’t think for a moment 
that all guaranteed sox are genuine “Holeproof Sox.” 

Nearly all the other names sound like ours, so you must 
needs be careful in choosing. Else you may get the inferior 
grades—the stiff and harsh kind — the kind that get fuzzy 
and fade. 

tloleproomosieru 

FOR MEN WOMEN~ AND CHILDREN^ 

"Holeproof” never wrinkle, stretch, crock, fade nor rust. 
And they are comfortable, because of our extra fine yarn. We 
could buy coarse yarn for less than half what we pay. We 
could then charge less still for the sox. But you wouldn’t 
wear such sox more than once. It’s far cheaper to buy the best. 

Please compare “Holeproof” with the best unguaranteed sox. 
Then let them show how they wear. 

That will prove more than we can say in this ad. 

See if any sox you know are one-half so good. 



Our guarantee lu each box of six pairs of 
"Holeproof’’ Sox reads: 

"If any or all these sox comes to holes or need 
darning within six months from the day you buy 
them, we will replace them free.” 

And we mean that exactly. Try "Holeproof.” 
You’ll see then how we can afford this. See what 
you save and gain when you wear "Holeproof.” 
Once know and you’ll always wear them. 

If your dealer does not have genuine" Holeproof” 
Sox, bearing the "Holeproof” Trade-mark, order 
direct from us. (Remit in any convenient way.) 


Holeproof Sox—G pairs, $1.50. Medium and 
light weight. Black, light and dark tan, navy blue, 
pearl gray, and black with white feet. Sizes, 9/4 
to 12. Sixpairs of a size and weight in a box. All 
one color or assorted, as desired. 

Holeproof Sox, (extra light weight)—made 
entirely of Sea Island cotton. 6 pairs, $2.00. 

Holeproof Lustre-Sox—6 pairs, $3. Finished 
like silk. Extra light weight. Black, navy blue, 
light and dark tan, and pearl gray. Sizes, 9J4 to 12. 

Holeproof Stockings—6 pairs $2. Medium 
weight. Black, tan and black with white feet. 
Sizes, 8 to 11. 

Holeproof Lustre - Stockings — 6 pairs, J3. 
Finished like silk. Extra light 
weight. Tan and black. Sizes 8to II. 

Boys* Holeproof Stockings—6 
pairs, $3. Black and tan. Specially 
reinforced knee, heel and toe. Sizes, 

5 to 11. 

Misses’ Holeproof Stockings— 

6 pairs, $3. Black and tan. Special¬ 
ly reinforced knee, heel and toe. 

Sizes, 5 to 9/4. These are the best R«e-U s Fat. 
children’s hose made today. office, 1906 . 



HOLEPROOF HOSIERY COMPANY, 250 Fourth Street, Milwaukee, Wis. 


3i 















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World- 




The New Way 
In Effective Advertising 


Lord & Thomas, now of both New 
York and Chicago, owe to this New Way 
their astounding success. 

They have become the greatest agency 
that ever existed, because their methods 
make advertising pay. 

Those methods, therefore, are methods 
you should know. 


We had 25 years of experience under 
the Old Way, which other agents still 
employ. We have had 10 years of ex¬ 
perience with the New Way. So we 
know both. 

In too many cases, under the Old Way, 
advertising failed to even return its cost. 
And few who won out made more than 
semi-successes. 

Under the New Way, most of our cli¬ 
ents make money. And every advertiser 
develops the utmost of his possibilities. 

Such are the differences. Now let us 
tell you just what the New Way means. 

The Tremendous Advantage 

of Co-Operation 

Under the Old Way, an advertising 
campaign was left to an individual. 
Sometimes he was capable, sometimes 
experienced. But the ablest man has dis¬ 
tinct limitations. 

No man knows all the pitfalls. None 
can conceive all the needed ideas. No 


man can instill into any campaign more 
than a one-man power. 

Under the New Way, the problems 
of advertising are dealt with by Advis- 
ory Boards. Thus we bring to bear on 
each campaign a wealth of experienced 
ability. 

Each man is a master of advertising. 
Each is a veteran of many hard-fought 
campaigns. Each has won his place 
through exceptional successes. 

Then here, in this vortex of advertis¬ 
ing, they multiply their powers. The 
myriad problems which they have to deal 
with crowds a lifetime's experience intc 
every month. 

As a result, these Advisory Boards are 
doing in advertising more than ever be¬ 
fore has been done. 

$1.00 a Minute 

Our two Advisory Boards—in New 
York and Chicago—consist of 28 men. 
The combined salaries of the men who 
meet on one of the Boards is about $1 a 
minute. 

Yet these men will consider, without 
charge or obligation, any advertising 
problem which you desire to submit to 
them. 

If you are seeking the impossible, they 
will tell you so frankly. If you are seek¬ 
ing the possible, they will tell you how to 
prove it out. 


32 













McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


There is no other place to secure such 
able advice. For these men, through ex¬ 
perience, become almost infallible. 

Their next duty is to make successful 
the campaigns which we undertake. 
They work out in conference the means, 
and schemes, and copy. They solve the 
selling problems. And they do not finish 
until they believe the campaign to be ir¬ 
resistible. 

Thus they often make one dollar do the 
work of ten. And many great advertisers 
owe their successes to these Advisory 
Boards. 

Our Copy Staff 

We have worked for years to gather 
here the ablest ad-writers that the field 
has developed. 

We offer to such men higher salaries 
than are paid anywhere else. To one of 
these men we pay $1,000 per week. 

And we offer them vast opportunities. 
In this environment, where each learns 
from all others, men multiply their 
powers. 

Thus we have attracted here the ablest 
men we know. A\ e have here now the 
most brilliant corps of advertising men 
in America. 

Behind our Advisory Boards and our 
Copy Staffs are more than 200 people 
skilled in all the departments of advertis¬ 
ing. 


No Extra Charge 

The New Way means many able help- 
ers at the cost of one. For we handle 
advertising on the usual agent's commis¬ 
sion. 

These high-priced men all earn their 
way by making the small accounts grow 
into large ones. 

It costs us less to keep business, and 
to develop it, than others spend to acquire 
it. It is cheaper to multiply one account 
fifty times over than to solicit fifty new 
ones. So we need to charge nothing ex¬ 
tra. 

Nor does it matter whether you spend 
little or much. The percentage of com¬ 
mission is the same to all. We wait for 
our profit until we show results. 


We issue a book which tells what the 
New Way has done. Every man who 
spends a dollar in advertising owes to 
himself its perusal. The book itself is 
a brilliant example of our advertising 
powers. Please send this coupon for it. 


j A Reminder 

t To send to Lord & Thomas, New York or Chicago, 
\ for their book, “The New Way in Advertising.” 

i 


Please state name, address and business. Also 
{ the position that inquirer holds in the business. 


Lord & Thomas 


NEW YORK 
Second NatT Bank Bldg. 
Fifth Ave. and 28th St. 


NEWSPAPER, MAGAZINE 
AND OUTDOOR 

ADVERTISING 


CHICAGO 
Trude Building 
67 Wabash Avenue 


Both our offices are equally equipped in every department, and the two are 
connected by two private telegraph wires. Thus they operate as though all 
men in both offices were under a single roof. Address the office nearest you. 


33 
















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 









LigKt 


Showing Position of 
Welsbach Junior Light 
in Gas Globes. 



Buy a Welsbach Junior 
light; screw it on the 
chandelier. Now light 
one of the other jets—- 
the open tip sort. Look 
at the flame, the illumi¬ 
nation. Turn it out; 
light the Welsbach 
Junior. Now note the 
illumination, the volume 
of light. Twice as much 
as the open tip, and a 
white, steady soft, mel¬ 
low light—not a sickly 
flickering yellow. 



That open tip flame uses 
8 feet of gas per hour— 
the Welsbach Junior uses 
but 2 feet. Put differ¬ 
ently, the Welsbach 
Junior costs just one- 
quarter as much for gas 
as the open tip, and gives 
you twice as much light. 
You can burn the Wels¬ 
bach Junior 5 hours for 1 
cent’s worth of gas, mak¬ 
ing it the cheapest illumi- 
nant in the world. 


THE GAS SAVED WILL PAY FOR THE LIGHT IN SIX MONTHS* TIME 


The Welsbach Junior is a complete light, 5 inches high, consisting 
of burner, mantle and chimney. It attaches to any gas fixture— 
chandelier, pendant, or wall bracket—and is completely hidden 
from view by the globe. And it needs no special glassware—use 
your own globes. The cost of the light is the only cost. 

PRICE COMPLETE IN A BOX, 35 CENTS EACH 








For sale by all dealers and 
the WELSBACH STORES. 
You’ll find a WELSBACH 
STORE in every important 
city in the United States. 



34 
























McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 


Jp' 

• 'V 


III !? 1 


liffl 


sajSr 




''m, 

Li* 11 




■*& 




imilliniiimniiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 


Mishawaka Woolen Co., Mishawaka Ind., Roofed 12 years ago. 


What The Barrett Specification Insures 


G RAVEL and slag roofs when 
laid according to The Barrett 
Specification will cost less per 
square foot per year of service than 
any other kind of roofing. A con¬ 
tractor who lays a roof according to 
this Specification is assured of several 
things. 

First—The proper amount and 
weight of felt. 

Second—The proper amount and 
proper distribution of the pitch— 
most important point. 

Third—No repairs during the term 
of guarantee. 

Fourth—Satisfied customers and 
increased business. 

We can point to numerous roofs 
laid along the lines of The Barrett 


Specification which have been in ser¬ 
vice for over 20 years and are still 
in good condition, and the cost for 
these figures down to one-fourth to 
one-fifth of a cent per square foot 
per year. 

The very fact that slag and gravel 
roofs cover more of the first-class 
buildings of the country than all other 
kinds put together is good evidence 
that this form of roof covering has 
been most satisfactory. 

Booklet covering the subject and 
including The Barrett Specification 
in full mailed free on request. 

BARRETT MANUFACTURING CO. 

New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, Boston. 
St. Louis, Cleveland, Pittsburg, Cincinnati, 
Kansas City, Minneapolis, New Orleans, 
London, Eng. 


35 









































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



In producing a line of Silver Plated Knives, 
Forks and Spoons, we make but one grade or 
quality, and that the very be£t. We have here¬ 
tofore manufactured these articles in Sterling 
silver only, and in making plated ware we have 
maintained the same high Standard of die work, 
finish, etc., so that ALVIN plated ware has the 
| unique Sterling silver character and finish that no 
other plated ware has. Each article is Stamped 
< A LV I N > < PATENT > 

Ask your jeweler for Alvin Plate. 


Alvin Plate 


BI*IDE$ 

BOUQUET 



The Kodak conveniences, together with the 
highest speed capabilities, are perfectly com¬ 
bined in the new No. 4 A 

SPEED 

KODAK 

Fitted with the Kodak Focal Plane Shutter, having 
a range of automatic exposure from slow instantaneous 
to i-icjoo of a second, and also conveniently adapted to 
time exposures. The Speed Kodak is an instrument of 
the highest efficiency, whether used for every day 
work or for catching, with perfect sharpness, the 
inile-a-minute automobile. Perfect in equipment yet 
but half the bulk of other cameras of similar speed 
capabilities 

No. 4A Speed Kodak, for pictures x 6T: 

(without lens,).S 50.00 

Do., with B. & L. Zeiss Tessar Lens, 

Series lib No. 6 f 6.3, .... 109.50 

EASTMAN KODAK CO. 

Catalog free at the dealers ROCHESTER, N. Y. 



XTHE TRUNK 


WITH 
TH EL 


WhyBuyanUnknownTrunk 

when your dealer can furnish a 
P&S Guaranteed Trunk at the 
same price? Both maker and 
dealer stand behind P & S 
Trunks to “make good’’ any 
fault. Varied types to satisfy 
all needs, including P&S dust- 
proof wardrobe models for 
igog. Ask for fine art cata¬ 
logue—of your dealer or of us. 

The".), F. PAPKHl RST & SOIV CO.. 
Factories: 281 Main Si.. Bangor, Maine- 


JTTHF TRUNK 


W ITH 

TH EL. 





































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


The first Derby made in America was a C8cK 



THE noticeable elegance 
of style which characterizes 
Knapp-Felt hats is the re¬ 
sult of artistic C&K hand¬ 
work; the smart shapes are 
exclusive C&K designs and 
the steadfast Cronap color 
cannot be duplicated in any 
other make. Knapp-Felt 
is unique and original. 
Knapp-Felt DeLuxe hats are Six Dollars, 
Knapp-Felts are Four Dollars—everywhere. 


H r rite for The Hatman 


THE CROFUT * KNAPP CO. 


Broadway, Corner of Thirteenth Street, New York 



with 1Z Blades 


Each Ever-Ready set at $r.oo is complete with 
the silver-nickeled Ever-Ready frame —twelve ( 12 ) 
critically perfect Ever-Readv blades, and stropping 
handle, all compactly and attractively cased. 
Extra Blades 10 for 50c — cost less and worth 
more than any blade. A million users. 


Sold bv Druggists. Hardware, Cutlery, Department Stores 
and Jewelers throughout America and the World. Ask any 
local dealer. Mail orders prepaid upon receipt of |1.00. 


AMERICAN SAFETY RAZOR CO., 320 Broadway, New York 


Guaranteed 

Bert. 
at any price 


37 


































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Holiday Books 


plans 


SloW^V&rtnckc “Elastic BooK-cases 


are distributed in this country every 
year by the million. Usually these gift 
books have delicate bindings and are 
easily soiled and thumb-marked if left ex¬ 
posed on the table even for a few days. 

Slote^VJmicke” Elastic” Book-cases,with theii 
dust-proof doors afford adequate protection to the 
finest bindings, and yet the cost of a single section is only a trifle 
more than the average cost of one book, such as is usually presented 
at this season. 

Then why not start the year with a Slot* ^VermcUe' 4 Elastic” Library? 

Our new catalogue illustrates 25 original library plans as well as 
the different styles and finishes in which these cases can be obtained. 

The original drawings of these 
cost over $500.00. 

Slokc^rn.ckc “Elastic” Book¬ 
cases are carried in stock by 
nearly 1500 authorized 
agents. Where not repre¬ 
sented we ship on ap¬ 
proval, freight paid. 

Uniform prices 
everywhere. 

Write ^ 

Department M 
for Catalogue of Plans 

Slobe^Wermcke (?o., CINCINNATI 

BRANCH STORES: New York, 380-382 Broadway. Chicago, 224-228 Wabash Ave. Boston, 91-93 Federal Street. 


Wood Rollers 
Tin Rollers 




See that the label on each Roller bears this script 
signature for your protection. 

Get “ Improved/’ no tacks required. 


Hartshorn Shade Rollers 



diamonds 


L LOrTIS SYSTEM 




N CREDIT 


watches 


A uood New Year Resolution—Use the Loftis System 

IflPTKO ' Reliable. Original Diamond 
IjfJF t be and Watch Credit House, 

MhBI.ICO. Dipt. A82, 92 State St. .Chicago,IIJ. 


of much money. By giving credit and lowest prices, we make 15 or 110 do the work that 
150 does in a cash store. MAKE YOUR NEW YEAR SELECTIONS NOW from our New Year 
catalog and we will Hend them for your inspection. If you like them pay one-flfth on de¬ 
livery ; balance In 8 equal monthly amounts. Don't delay. Write Today for our Catalog 


3S 


























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


CRANE'S 

Correct Social Stationery 


(Crane's 
o&ien 
-{awn 



ranes 
] eddiru 
Papers) 



ISIS 

OR over a hun¬ 
dred years people 

llll 

HE stock upon 
which a wedding 

i||yp 



of taste have 


announcement is 

dm (Isi 



used Crane’s 


engraved should 


) 


writing papers. They were 
the best to be had in the 
early days of the country. 
They are the best to be had 
today. They are made in 
the same spot, by the same 
family,with the same stan¬ 
dard of quality as in the 
past, and Crane's Linen 
Lawn is today one of the 
most popular of the famous 
Crane papers. Crane’sLinen 
Lawn can be identified by 
the water-mark “Crane’s. ” 
No reputable stationer will 
offer you anything else when 
you ask for Crane’s. 


not only be beautiful in it¬ 
self, but should have the 
kind of surface to take the 
engraving best. 

Good judges have found 
that no wedding stock 
engraves so beautifully as 
Crane’s, but this is only one 
of the reasons why the invi¬ 
tations for every wedding 
of social importance are 
engraved upon Crane’s 
Wedding Papers. 

Crane’s Wedding Papers 
cannot be water-marked, but 
the water-mark “Crane’s” 
appears in the envelopes. 


0 one has suc¬ 
ceeded in making 
a calling card 
that has the fin*- 
ish and fineness of quality 
found in all of Crane’s Call¬ 
ing Cards. 

The cost of calling cards 
is in itself so small an item 
that no one should be de¬ 
terred from having the best 
because of the slight differ¬ 
ence in cost, and no one was 
ever heard to question the 
fact that Crane’s Calling 
Cards are the best. 

HIGHLAND LINEN. This beautiful 
paper, which has obtained a wider 
popularity and a greater success than 
any other fabric finished paper at its 
price, is still made in fashionable 
shades and shapes and is still selling 
wherever good paper is sold. 


Samples of any of these papers and cards will be sent on request 
EATON, CRANE & PIKE COMPANY, PITTSFIELD, MASS. 



RIDER BACK | j^ 


PLAYING CARDS 
606 

GOLD EDGES 

COPYOlOHT BY, 

TkiUSPiavincCardCoi 


Gold edges. 50c. per pack. 
90 picture backs—dainty 
colors and gold. 


| 40 regulation backs. The 
most durable 25c. card 
made. More sold than all | 
others combined. 


200 -page book, “Card Games and Howto Play Them,” new edition revised; latest rules for all popular games. Sent 
prepaid for 6 flap ends of Bicycle tuck boxes, or 15 c. in stamps. The U. S. Playing Card Co., Dept. 13 ,Cincinnati, O. 


39 




























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


THE 

f 


FIDEUTT nil (ISUILII to. 

OF NEW YORK 


GEORGE F. SEWARD, President 1 909 

ROBERT J. HILLAS, Vice-President and Secretary 


STEAM BOILER 
ELEVATOR 
PLATE GLASS 
BURGLARY 
FLY WHEEL 


This Company has been engaged in the several MINOR MISCELLANEOUS 
LINES of insurance for over THIRTY YEARS, and has built up gradually and 
prudently A VERY LARGE CASUALTY INSURANCE BUSINESS. Its annual 
income from premiums is over SIX MILLIONS of dollars. Its business is 
protected by assets of over EIGHT MILLIONS, including an unearned premium 
reserve of over THREE AND ONE-HALE MILLIONS of dollars, and a special 
reserve against contingent claims of over ONE MILLION SIX HUNDRED THOU¬ 
SAND DOLLARS. It has paid OVER TWENTY-EIGHT MILLIONS to its policy 
holders for LOSSES. Its constant effort is to give its clients not only INSUR¬ 
ANCE indemnity, but-prompt and effective INSPECTION and ADJUSTING 
SERVICES. 

INSURANCE THAT INSURES 


1876 

FIDELITY 

LIABILITY 

ACCIDENT 

HEALTH 


CAPITAL, 


$1,000,000.00 


SURPLUS 


5 Stocks and bonds Valued at j 
< t Market Bid Prices, June 30, 1908 f 


$1,536,189.88 


DUMONT CLARKE 
WM. P. DIXON. 
ALFRED W. HOYT, 


DIRECTORS: 

geo. e. ide, j. g. McCullough, henry e. pierrepont, 

W. G. LOW, WM. J. MATHESON, ANTON A. RAVEN, 

FRANK LYMAN, ALEXANDER E. ORR, JOHN L. RIKER, 

W. EMLEN ROOSEVELT, GEO. F. SEWARD. 


Principal Offices, Nos. 97-103 Cedar Street, New York 

Agents in all considerable towns 



BURROWES BILLIARD 
AND POOL TABLES 

DOWN 

Puts into your home any Table worth from $6 to $ 15. $2 a 

month pays balance. Higher priced Tables on correspond¬ 
ingly easy terms. We supply all cues, balls, etc., free. 

BECOME AN EXPERT AT HOME 


The Burrowes Home Billiard and Pool Table is a scientific- 
ally.built Combination Table, adapted for the most expert 
play. It may be set on your dining-room or library table, 
or mounted on legs or stand. When not in use it may be 
set aside out of the way. 


NO RED TAPE — On receipt of first installment we 
will ship Table. Play on it one week. If unsatis¬ 
factory return it, and we will refund money. Write 
to-day for catalogue. 

Ui 6c E. T. Burrowes Co.. 

12 B Street. Portland, Maine 

We make BURROWES RUSTLESS SCREENS (see RR. signs) 


MENNEN'S 

B0RATED TALCUM 


TOILET POWDER 



“Baby’s Best Friend” 

and Mamma's greatest comfort. Mennen's relieves and 
prevents Chapped Hands and Chafing. 

For your protection the genuine is put up in non-re- 
tillable boxes—the “Box that Lox, M with Mennen's face 
on top. Sold everywhere or by mail 25 cents —Sample free. 

Try Mennen’s Violet (Borated) Talcum Toilet Powder—It 
has the stent of Fresh-cut Parma Violets. Sample free. 

GERHARD MENNEN CO.. Newark. N. J. 

■ennen’a Sen Tang Toilet Powder, Oriental Odor ) No 

■ennen’a Berated Skin Soap (blue wrapper) f Samples 

Specially prepared for the nursery. Sold only at Store*. 


40 






































r 


McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



APPLE ORCHARDS 

— Famous Spokane Country 



Pay from $ 300.00 an acre upwards each year. I know of instances where as high as $ 1 , 000.00 an acre have 
been netted from an orchard scientifically managed. But $ 300.00 to $ 500.00 is a fair average and a conservative 
estimate of the earning power of an acre. 


$8.35 a month invested 
in anOrchard Unitwill p ay 
you an annual income of 
$300.00 or more after the 
orchard begins to bear. 
Isn’t it worth while ? 



Four Units will mean an 
annual income of $1,200 
or more, and can be bought 
on monthly payments of 
$33.35. And your invest¬ 
ment is safeguarded from 
the start. 


By our “ Unit System of Ownership” plan investors are given an opportunity to own an interest in a large 
Commercial Winter Apple Orchard scientifically grown and under expert management. 

Each Unit represents a one-hundredth interest in a one hundred acre orchard — hence the earning power of 
a Unit is the same as the earning power of an acre. 

The Union Trust Company of Spokane represents the Unit Owners and the Trust Deed provides that no 
encumbrance can be placed upon the property by anyone. 

Each Unit owner secures a separate, independent instrument representing a portion of the orchard property 
which it is issued against. He can buy, sell, pledge, transfer or devise his Unit by will, at any time, without in 
any way affecting the other Units in that property. 

The purchase of Orchard Units means a safe, high-class investment endorsed by National Banks and Trust 
Companies. 

An attractive booklet explaining the plan in detail will be mailed upon request. 


A. G. HANAUER, Vice-President :: HANAUER-GRAVES QOMPANY, Inc. 

LARGEST ORCHARD OPERATORS IN THE NORTHWEST. So. 9 Stevens St., SPOKANE, WASH. 


6 0/ and 
/0 more 


is just as 


Easy 

Safe 


as or Less 


For twenty-five years, through good times and bad, in 
panic or prosperity 6% and more has been realized right 
along on 

New York City Real Estate 

It is an absolutely safe investment now and an absolutely 
sure investment for the future — because — 

Land areas are restricted. Population is increasing. 

This combination of circumstances makes prices for unim¬ 
proved real estate continuously higher and larger rents for 
improved property increasingly surer. We say to you 

OWN SOME OF IT 

and have an investment just as safe as a mortgage bond paying 
only 4 J%, but in easily carried $10.00 contracts which bear 
6 % annual interest in cash—nonforfeitable, carrying no pen¬ 
alties and are paid in full in cash at maturity. Then we give 
you a $100 certificate for 10 of these contracts, which insures 
you not only 6 % annual interest, but also guarantees you 
a share in the interest of the rapidly growing yet conser¬ 
vatively managed business of the undersigned company. This 
plan combines 

Safe Investment with Systematic Saving 

Dffit . P,_/br Real Realty Booklet. 

MONATON REALTY INVESTING CORPORATION 

Dealing ONLY in income producing NEW YORK CITY properties. 

CAPITAL, $ I ,000,000. 

Times Building, Broadway and 42 d Street, NEW YORK 


I 


“TANKS WITH A REPUTATION” 


CALDWELL 
Tanks and Towers 

have twenty-five years 1 ex¬ 
perience behind them. Arch¬ 
itects and Engineers recom¬ 
mend them ; the Insurance 
Companies endorse them ; 
our thousands of Customers 
praise them. Tanks that 
are tight and durable—Cy¬ 
press and Steel. Towers 
that are solid as a rock and 
last a lifetime. 

McCormick Harvesting 
Machine Co., Chicago, III., 
write us : '* The seven 15,000- 
gallon tanks, together with 
the towers on which they 
were erected for us several 
years ago, were all that we 
desired them to be. We con¬ 
sider the tanks fine speci¬ 
mens of the coopers’ art. 
No repairs whatever have 
been required on them. The 
towers are staunch and have 
been tested with a seventy- 
mile gale.” 

Water Supply Outfits for 
Factories, Country Homes, 
Small Towns, etc. Write 
for Catalogue ‘ 4 D ” and 
delivered prices. Ask for 
references near you. 

W. E. CALDWELL CO. 

Louisville, Ky., U. S. A. 



41 


















































McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 



Flower Garden- 


California—where roses bloom in midwinter; where oranges are 
ripe and ready to eat in January; where the old missions add a 
touch of mystery to the enchantment of the scene. 


Golden State Limited 


VIA ROCK ISLAND LINES 


is the ideal train on which to make this ideal trip. Daily from Chi¬ 
cago and St. Louis to Los Angeles, Santa Barbara and San Francisco. 


Rock 
Island 




C. The only train by any line with through sleeping 
car service to Santa Barbara . 

Beautifully illustrated took, describing train and 
trip, sent on request, if you mention this magazine 

JOHN SEBASTIAN\ Passenger Traffic Manager 
1808 La Salle Station, Chicago 












r 


McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



? 



^ \ 




The Straight Line of your Palm is 
not Straighter than the Straight Line 
to the Palms 

SEABOARD 


AIR LINE KK-jT 


SHORTEST QUICKEST 
ROUTE TO 

FLORIDA 

WITH THE MOST ATTRACTIVE 
STOP OVER POINTS EN ROUTE 

NAS S AU 
CUBA 

AND WINTER 
RESORTS OF 
THE'SOUTH 


Seaboard Florida Limited 

Handsomest,quickest Florida train. 
Electric lighted, all Pullmans, com- 
prisingDouble Drawing-room,Com¬ 
partment, Club, Observation and 
Dining Car. Special cars for Palm 
Beach, Miami, Knights Key, in ser¬ 
vice except Sunday, January 4 to 
April 4, 1909. Schedule as follows: 



NCW YOftro 


PHILADELPHIA O 

/ ' 

BALTIMORE 


RICHMOND C 


, New York 
West Phila. 
Baltimore 
Washington 
. Camden, S. 0. 
Columbia,E.T, 
Savannah 
Jacksonville 
St. Augustine 
Palm Beach 
Miami 
Knights Key 
Havana 


12 25 PM 
2 50 “ 

5 05 “ 

0 20 “ 

0 C5 AM 
7 00 “ 

9 30 “ 

1 15 PM 

2 25 “ 

1 18 AM 

3 20 “ 

1 00 14 

4 30 PM 


With two additional daily 
trains, the 

Year Round Limited 
and the 

Florida Fast Mail, 
the Seaboard affords its 
patrons the best service 
ever offered to Florida and 
the Carolinas. 


OLD PTCOMFORT 
juNOAfOLK 
PORTSMOUTH 


pinehurst A souths 

' PINE5 


BIRMINGHAM 


MONTGOMERY 


Tourist ticket*, permitting stopover in both direc¬ 
tions, on sale November 1st to April 30th. 

For Winter Resort Booklet and information 
address Northern offices below : 

Boston, 360 Washington Street 

New York, 1183 Broadway 
Philadelphia, 1433 Chestnut Street 
Cleveland, 1290 West 11th Street 
Baltimore, Continental Trust Bldg. 

Washington, 1421 Penna. Avenue 

L. SEVIER, First Vice-Pres., Portsmouth, Va. 
CHARLES B. RYAN, G. P. A., Portsmouth. Va- 


THE CAROLINAS AND GEORGIA 


Q CAMDEN 
6 COLUMBIA 


- <' SAVANNAH 

/ D BRUNSWICK 
<5 FERNANOINA 
JACKSONVILLE 


NEW ORLEANS TALLAMAS5EE A 

u 0 PENSACOLA 0 -- 

/] y ST. AUGU5T1N E 

CEDAR KEY d | ^ ORMOND 

| V OAVTONA 
OftLANDoc ^TITUSVILLE 

\ rockledge 


tampaJ 
ST. PETERSBURG \ ./ 

Bfi AD ENTOWH^e MANATEE 
SARASOTA ° \ 

C PALM 
I BEACH 

M ,A MI 0 NASSAU 


KEY WEST O 


d KNIGHTS 


43 










■ 


McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 




'mm 


The Artistic Value of Hardware 

There is a value in hardware fittings far beyond actual cost or mere utility—a lasting 
decorative value that cannot be overlooked by the home builder. The possibilities for effective 
ornamentation in hardware are many—and find their greatest expression in 

Sargent’s Artistic Hardware 


Wide variety assures you whatever your individual taste 
with it the same reputation for durability and satisfaction 

Sargent’s Book ol Designs—Free 

Contains illustrations and descrip¬ 
tions of over seventy 
beautiful styles, be¬ 
sides numerous sug¬ 
gestions to home 
builders, etc. 

A valuable book 
to you— sent free 
on request. 


may dictate—every design carrying 

The Colonial "Book 

is of especial interest to those 
who favor this scheme of 
architecture—free. Ask 
for it when you write. 

Sargent 
& Co. 

I Leonard St 
New York 



44 






















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 





FLINTKOTE 


ROOFING 


Is spark-proof. That's why it's good insurance against 
fire which spreads from flying sparks. The only roofing 
good enough for use on factories, warehouses or farm 
buildings where extreme wearing quality and moderate 
cost must be combined. 

REX Flintkote ROOFING is wind-proof, cold- 
proof, wet-proof. It costs no more than 
less efficient roofings. Expense of laying 
it is minimum. When it's laid it's paid 
for—no need for repairs. 

WRITE FOR BOOK and SAMPLES 

^ The REX Flintkote book will give you more good 

reasons why you should use REX ROOFING than you could 
think of in a lifetime why you shouldn’t. It gives photo- 
graphs of buildings roofed with REX Flintkote and letters 
from prominent users. The samples will show you A 
\ what REX Flintkote ROOFING is. Write to-day. 

J. A. & W. BIRD & CO. fjk 

\ 71 India St., Boston, Mass. V Jj 

IL Agents Everywhere 




45 














McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


Water, free as Air 


Water is valuable largely in proportion to the 
pressure at which it can be delivered. To 
illustrate : water delivered into your home, 
with no pressure, would not flow from the fau¬ 
cet; it would be necessary to draw it with a 
suction pump and to carry it from room to 
room in pails; of course, water with no pres¬ 
sure is better than none at all; again, at slight 
pressure water flows slowly from the faucet. 
This means waiting some time for any quantity, 
and naturally, under such conditions, the user 
always puts up with a scant supply; bathing is 
a discouraging proposition, when water merely 


trickles into the tub. But the moment you get 
water at high pressure, you have it in abun¬ 
dance, and it at once serves a dozen purposes 
for which it would never otherwise be used, 
and it is then used freely by every member of 
the family. There is no long wait, or the fixing 
of certain days, when each member may bathe, 
because its abundance makes it as free as air. 
Think of it, water as free as air! That means 
Comfort, Cleanliness and Health. Then oh, 
what a protection water under pressure is in 
case of fire! Have you got it? If not, don’t you 
want it? It goes with every Hot-Air Pump . 


Be sure that the name "DperfT DIDCD nr "Ilfrr/rrQIPCCflM appears upon the pump 
you purchase. This lHULIl or zL^XnlwwwUll name protects you 

against worthless imitations. When so situated that you cannot personally inspect 
the pump before ordering, write to our nearest office (see list below) for the name of 
a reputable dealer in your locality, who will sell you only the genuine pump. Over 
40,000 are in use throughout the world to-day. 

Write for Catalogue C, and ask for reduced price-list . 


Rider-Ericsson 
Engine Co. 


35 Warren Street, New York 
239 Franklin Street, Boston 
40 Dearborn Street, Chicago 
40 North 7th Street, Philadelphia 
234 Craig Street West, Montreal, P. Q. 
22 Pitt Street, Sydney, N. S. W. 
Amargura 96, Havana, Cuba 



Hot-Air Pump 


Life of R.obert Fulton 

Copies free on application. 



Fulton Trust Co. of New York, 

H. C. Swords, Pres. H. H. Cammann, V.-Pres. 

30 Nassau Street, New York City. 


X-RAY 

Stove Polish; 


AsV |UW Trade Mark 

dealer jM Free Sample. WriteDept. 49. 

for it. Lamont,CorIi89&Co.Agts.7«HudsonStN.Y. 

LASTS LONGEST 



The Only Real Stains 

it you have only seen the crude and tawdry colors of 
the thinned-paint imitations of 

Cabot’s Shingle Stains 

You have no idea of the beautiful coloring effects of 
the true stains. They are soft and deep, like velvet, 
but transparent, bringing out the beauty of the wood 
grain. Half as expensive as paint, twice as handsome, 
and the only stains made of Creosote, 41 the best wood 
preservative known.” 

Samples on mood and Catalogue sent free on request. 

SAMUEL CABOT, Inc., Sole Manufacturers 
139 Milk Street, Boston, Mass. 

Agents at all Central Points. 


Muhlenberg Bros., Architects t Reading, Pa. 


46 
































McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 


Wouldn’t we be foolish to say six-cylinder 
cars excel all others, if we couldn’t 

prove it ? 

Automobile buyers are becoming more and more exadting. 
Mere say-so has less influence now than ever before. 

Buyers demand to be shown. 

And that makes us happy, for the more critically you test the 




T 


the more certain you are to become a six-cylinder 
enthusiast. Simply ask to be shown, and the 
Winton Six will do the rest—- 
—start from the seat without cranking; 

—run as quietly as deep water; 

—take hills and traffic on high, at fast or slow speed, 
without gear shifting; 

—do its work without vibration; 

—provide maximum comfort to passengers; 

—inflate its own tires without hand labor; 

—save tire and fuel expense; 

—keep out of repair shops (see our sworn records of 
65,687.4 miles at an average upkeep expense of 
$1 for each 4343 miles); 

—go the route like coasting down hill; 

—and give its owner the indescribable contentment 
of possessing a car superior to everything else on 
the road. 

THE WINTON MOTOR CARRIAGE CO 

Member Association Licensed Auto Mfrs. 

104 BEREA ROAD. CLEVELAND. OHIO 



Get our book, “Twelve Rules to Help Buyers.** 
Gives a dozen practical methods of testing the merit of 
motor cars before you buy. These rules apply 
equally to cars of all makes, grades and prices, and 
suggest infallible ways of finding out whether the car 
offered for your purchase is worth buying. Observe 
these rules and you will avoid many a dollar of ex¬ 
pense, and escape making a humiliating and cos tly 
mistake in selecting a car. It is sent gratis. 

So, too, is our unusual catalog, which sets forth 
fully the cardinal differences between six-cylinder cars 
and other types. Its information is worth knowing. 

We make the Winton Six in two sizes. Five pass¬ 
enger, 48 horse-power car, $3000: Seven-passenger, 
60 horse-power car, $4500. Both cars of the finest 
quality that any experienced, conscientious maker can 
produce. 

Write for literature today. 

Winton Branch Houses in New York, Boston, Phila¬ 
delphia, Baltimore, Pittsburg, Detroit, Chicago, 
Minneapolis, Seattle and San Francisco. See our ex¬ 
hibit at Madison Square Garden Show, N.Y., Jan. 16-23 


47 












McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


The Troubles You Have With Your Four Cycle Car 
the Elmore Owner Knows Nothing At All About 



3 Cylinder, $1,750 4 Cylinder, $2,500 


The owner views with complete 

equanimity the strenuous struggle for suprem¬ 
acy among four cycle cars. 

Their clamorous assertions of superiority, one 
over the other—the auction-like offering of 
big cars at a little price, and big cars at a 
big price —do not perturb or disturb him. 

He knows they are all four cycle cars. He 
knows that no car which is deficient in a 
vital engineering principle can rise above that 
deficiency. 

He knows that the four cycle motor is basic¬ 
ally incorrect, because it is hampered by 
valves and by intermittent torque — a ripe, 
rosy apple with a worm at the core. 

He knows that no amount of refinement, no 
possible cut in price, can compensate for the 
fluttering, jerky action of that motor. 

He knows that no matter how deep they 
bury that motor under cushions of luxurious 
leather, or strive to distract the owner’s atten¬ 
tion with glistening brass and glass ; the 
fatal flaw — the intermittent application of 
power—is still there. 

He thinks of his own valveless, troubleless 
engine, running from January to 


January without jolt or jar, and he smiles 
complacently. 

Do you think this is a fanciful picture ? It isn’t. 

While you are listening to the disputatious 
clamor of a score of cars whose very name— 
four cycle—spells complication and trouble, 
several thousand owners are saying: 

“ No matter what car you offered me; no 
matter how big or how fine it was; no matter 
how many cylinders it had; no matter how low 
you made the price, I wouldn’t have it if it 
was a four cycle in exchange for my 
valveless two cycle car.” 

“ In the distress of our best friends,” says 
Rochefoucarild, “ we ever find something not 
distressing to us ” ; and owners, be¬ 

ing quite human, cannot refrain from a chuckle 
of self-congratulation when they witness the 
difficulties encountered by four-cycle owners 
—difficulties which their wisdom has escaped 
in selecting an g&ie 

Your dealer can get no more cars than we have 
already allotted him. If the subject interests 
you—as it eventually will when you investigate 
—you should discuss it with him as early in 
the year as possible. 


THE ELMORE MANUFACTURING CO. - CLYDE, OHIO 

Members of the American Association of Licensed Automobile Manufacturers 
We will exhibit only at the Madison Square Garden Show, January 16-23 


4 S 
















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


Any good automobile will give you 
pleasure. But which one will give you the 
most pleasure and the most service for 
what it costs? 


Look at the facts. 

The Franklin air-cooled engine gets more power out of the gasoline 
than a water-cooled engine, because it runs at a more efficient temper¬ 
ature. This means fuel economy right at the start. 

The Franklin engine is lighter. There is no water-cooling appara¬ 
tus. The whole automobile is lighter, as well as simpler and stronger. 
This means further fuel economy, and an enormous saving of tires. 
The weight of an automobile is what wears out tires and makes big bills. 

The Franklin six-cylinder seven-passenger Model H, the most 
capable touring-car for American roads, is the only light-weight large 
automobile. It doesn’t begin to use up tires as fast as the heavy water- 
cooled machines. And it is more comfortable. Many people who can 
endure only a limited amount of riding in a steel-frame half-elliptic 
spring automobile, find that in a Franklin with its full-elliptic springs 
and its laminated wood frame they can ride all day—and day after day, 
with comfort and enjoyment. 

So the Franklin gives more, mileage—more service, on all sorts of 
roads. And more service in the year. You can use any Franklin all 
the time—winter and summer. There is nothing to freeze nor overheat. 

What real comfort is there in a heavy hard-riding automobile? 
How much satisfaction in one that you cannot use readily and freely 
every day in the year ? 

Franklin automobiles, measured by quality, and by what they do, 
are the best automobile value there is. 

Learn the facts before you buy. 



Write for the new 40-page Franklin 
catalogue de luxe, describing the com¬ 
plete line of Franklin runabouts, 'touring 
cars and closed cars. The most inform¬ 
ing automobile catalogue ever issued. 
Sent only on request. 


Model D $280£ (Top extra! 


H H FRANKLIN MFG CO., Syracuse N Y 


49 





McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



r. ■ 

>$ssn$; 


■ 

: 


i . 


The name Locomobile on a shaft-drive car guaran- 
THE \ tees its superiority. The New “30” shaft-drive 
NEWH model is as strong, durable and safe as our famous 
chain cars. Powerful—silent—easily handled— 

and, above all, easy riding. Thoroughly developed 
and fully tested through three years actual road work. Motor, 
4^x4}4, 38 h.p., actual. Wheels, 34 in. Price, $3,500 
(top extra). 

The “40” Locomobile is the logical choice of those 
who want a high-powered seven-passenger car. 
Price, $4,500. Also Runabout or Baby Tonneau 
and Closed Cars. 

A “40” Locomobile won the Philadelphia Founders’ 
Week Stock Chassis Race, the most important event of its kind ever 
held in America. 




Send. 1 Oc. for a set of 12 Souvenir Post Cards, 
showing the 90 h. p. Locomobile winning the 
1908 International Race for the Vanderbilt Cup, 
the first American car to achieve this triumph. 

The XoComobile Company ofAmerica. Bridgcport.Conn. 

NEW YORK ; Broadway and 76!SSt.-BOSTON -.400 Newbury 5t. 
PHILADELPHIA : 245 N Broad St.- CH!CAGO:I354 Michigan Ave. 



5 ^ 


























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 




T o enjoy the exhilaration of speed, with physical 
comfort and mental assurance of safety, is one 
of the many privileges of Oldsmobile owners. Perfect 
spring suspension and shock-absorber equipment in¬ 
sure comfort. Strength-for-emergency construction 
insures safety. 


It is also the privilege of the Oldsmobile owner to 
drive a silent car, of easy control and beautiful design; 
a car just as ready for a cross-country run as for a 
boulevard parade. For ten years the Oldsmobile has 
been a known quantity—for ten years performance 
has always equalled promise—and the 1909 car is no 
exception. Four-cylinder touring car or roadster 
$2750. Six-cylinder cars $4200. Details sent 
on request. 


Member Association 
Licensed Automobile 
Manufacturers 


OLDS MOTOR WORKS 

Lansing, Michigan 


Oldsmobile Co. 
Canada, 80 King St., E. 
Toronto, Ont. 












McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



THE OFFSET CRANK SHAFT 

Most automobiles develop sufficient power when they are traveling at a high 
speed. The greatest need is for power at slow engine speeds. Rambler Model 
Forty-Four can be operated smoothly and steadily at three miles an hour on high 
gear. This is because of the offset crank shaft. 




Corresponds to 
position of piston in 
Rambler engine at ex¬ 
plosion center. 



Ordinary Engine. Position of piston 
at explosion center. Explosion exerts no 
turning effort to crank shaft. The dead cen¬ 
ter wastes energy. Shock falls on bearings. 


Rambler Offset Crank Shaft. Posi¬ 
tion of piston at explosion center. Full 
power of explosion exerts turning effort to 
crank shaft. Dead center eliminated. No 
energy wasted. No shock to bearings. 


Seven passenger model, forty-five horse power with offset crank shaft, $2500. Other models, 
$1150 to $2500. Write for catalog describing Rambler offset crank shaft, Spare 
Wheel, straight line drive and other features of the new Rambler. 


THE CAR OF STEADY SERVICE 

Thomas B . Jeffery $r Company, Main Office and Factory, K^enosha, Wis. 

Branches a?id Distributing Agencies: 

Chicago, Milwaukee, Boston, New York, San Francisco. 


Representatives in all leading cities. 









































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 







Permit the Carrying 
of Tires Already 

Inflated 

On Spare Rims 

Ready-Flated Tires in Position 
on Wheel. 


Wheel Fitted to Receive Continental Tire "Ready-Flated ” 


Continental Caoutchouc Company 

1788-90 Broadway - New York City 

J. M. GILBERT, General Manager 


Branches and Distributing Agents in 15 Cities 
DEALERS EVERYWHERE 


Reduce Tire 
Expense 

and 

Make Motoring 
a Pleasure 


Ready-Flated Tires Partly Removed. 


Placing Ready-Flated Tire on Wheel. 


The Finishing Touch. 


53 



































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Work That Counts 

The Premier has done more publicly to demonstrate in a practical way, the reliability, 
endurance and economy of the motor car than any other car in the world. And it has 
done just as much in the hands of private owners. It is performance that stamps 

The Premier 

Has met no superior in endurance contests. Holds the official record for economy. 

“The Quality Car” 


Nothing 

Stops 

The Premier 


On the top of 
The Alleghenies 
In the famous 
Premier 
Century Car 


Such performance is made possible only by the conscientious effort of this plant to build 
the best motor car in the world. Send for Catalogue E. 


Premier Motor Mfg. Co. 

Indianapolis, Ind. 


R. M. Owen & Co., Distributors 

East, North and Northwest 



TIRES - AUTOMOBILES - TIRES 

One of the most important items in maintainance cost is 
tires and tubes, but which can be held down to a more 
reasonable figure by buying judiciously— both as to price 
and quality. We are offering while they last, a big stock of 
TIRES AND INNER TUBES at 

33 4 % off list prices. All fresh 1908 reliable goods of the 
most popular makes,including G.& J. CONTINENTAL, 
PENNSYLVANIA, etc., etc. All sizes. Mailorders 
filled promptly. 

CUT THE COST OF MAINTAINANCE IN HALF 

by buying judiciously, both as to price and quality. Our 
100-page catalogue No. 1 10 will guide you.J Sent 
promptly. 

TIMES SQUARE AUTOMOBILE CO. 

Largest dealers in new and second-hand automobiles 
in the -world. 

NEW YORK CITY: 1597-99-1601 Broadway. 
CHICaGO, ILL. : 1332-34 Michigan Avenue. 


5 


THE BEST ICE AND ROLLER SKATES 

* k ? te ' makl ? g Wlth us is not an experiment—it is a science. We have been 
at the business for over fifty years, and our skates are everywhere recognized as 
the standard of America. 

Our new illustrated catalogues are free. Write for a copy. Please state 
whether you are interested in Ice or Roller Skates. 

THE SAMUEL WINSLOW SKATE MFG. CO.. 

Cb—f r. Bfc, ft'w I,*. WORCESTER. MASS, U.S.A. I Lone E. CL, London 


Strop Your Double-Ed^ed Blades with 
The Rundel Automatic Stropper 


Makes old double-edged safety razor blades better than 
new, improves new blades and insures a perfect shave, 
Absolutely automatic and cannot cut strop. 

Ask your 
dealer for the 
Rundel. 
Accept no 
substitutes. 
If your dealer 
won’t supply you 
write us. 

Illustrated folder 
free. 

Discounts to trade. 

RUNDEL SALES CO, 

701 Central Bldg., 
Rochester, N. Y. 


54 





















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


The secret of superiority in pneumatic 
tires is in the rubber composition. The 
form and shape are standard. The makers 
of the Kelly-Springfield Solid Tire make 



CONSOLIDATED RUBBER TIRE COMPANY, 20 Ve*ey St., New York, and Akron, Ohio 

Branch Offices in New York, Boston, Chicago, Philadelphia, St. Louis, Detroit, Cincinnati and San Francisco 



Bnild Your Own Incubators ana Brooders 

and nvfl half th« purohaae prioe. Any one omn do It. I furnish 
mechanical parts, Tank, Lamp, Regulator, eta. at low prices. 
Over 25,000 In use, not one failure. LAMPLESS BROODER 
will cost you only |4.00. Complete plane only 25 cents te 
cover cost. Worth Dollars to you. 

H. M. SHEER, 482 Hampshire St.,QUINCY, ILL. 


Print Your Own 



Cards, circulars, book, newspaper. Press J5. Larger }i8. 
Save money. Print for others, big prolit. All easy, rules 
sent. Write factory for press catalog, type, paper, etc. 

THE PRESS CO., Meriden, Connecticut. 



No. 58, $1.00 
TEDDY'S CAMP KNIFE 


HERE IS A KNIFE MEN LOVE 

MUCH THEY HATE TO THROW AN OLD HANDLE AWAY 

Cut ia exact size; ebony handle, 3 blades, 
German silver ends. The long blade is for 
rough or hue work; the medium blade is 
as thin as a razor. Price, postpaid, $1-00. 
Strong 2 blade -nzor steel Jack Knife, 48c. 
Lady's 2 blade, ^LOO. Gent’s fine 3 blade, 
$1.00. Send fi.r 80 p. free List and ‘‘How 
to Use a Razor. 11 

MAHER ® GROSH CO. 

608 A St.. Toledo. Ohio. 


55 





























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


IT IS SUMMER IN 



CALIFORNIA, ARIZONA, 


You can 


MEXICO, TEXAS, LOUISIANA, 


MOTOR 

DRIVE 

RIDE 

FISH 

HUNT 

BATHE 

CLIMB 

COACH 

CANOE 

YACHT 

GOLF 



Points in these States best reached via the 


Southern Pacific Sunset Route 

THE NATURAL WINTER GATEWAY 
THE OPEN WINDOW ROUTE 




Rock-Ballast Roadbed — Automatic Block Signals — Oil - Burning Locomotives—Superior Equipment. 

10 days’Stopover at New Orleans on all tickets. For free illustrated pamphlets, address Southern Pacific Agent at 

NEW YORK, CHICAGO, NEW ORLEANS, BOSTON, PHILADELPHIA, SYRACUSE, BALTIMORE, 

349 Broadway. 120 Jackson Bldg. Magazine St. 170 Washington St. 632 Chestnut St. 212 W. Washington St. 29 W. Baltimore St. 


/ 




(Sequel to the 
Famous Fencing 
Girl) 


FOUR 
FLYERS 

Graceful poses 
from life; in 13 
colors. Size 10x15 inches, suitable for framing. 

“THE ONLY WAY” 

to own one of these gorgeous calendars is to 
send 25 cents and the name of this pub¬ 
lication to Geo. J. Charlton, General Pas¬ 
senger Agent, Toledo, St. Louis & Western 
and Chicago & Alton Railroads, 704 Railway 
Exchange, Chicago, III. 


Perfect Passenger Service between 
Toledo, Chicago, St. Louis and Kansas City 


Pine Forest Inn South Carolina, 


Now Open. Season December to May. 

A Modern Hotel, catering to a clientele desiring 
refined surroundings. Rooms with bath. Steam 
Heat or Open Fireplaces. Sanitary Conditions 
Perfect. Our Ariesian Well supplies the purest 
of water. Tuberculosis patients positively not 
received. Principal Attractions: — Ideal Cli¬ 
matic Conditions, one of the finest 18-hole Golf 
Courses in the South. Reliable livery, both 
Saddle and Harness Horses. Fine new boulevard 
to Charleston, about 30 miles distant. Excellent 
Tennis, Bowling, Hunting. Apply to 
manager. Pine Forest Inn, Summerville, S. C m 
or F. Ul. lUagener $ Co., Charleston, S. C. 


WINTER TOURS 

California, Old Mexico 
Colorado and Utah 

Personally escorted, in Pullman private com¬ 
partment and drawing room cars. Strictly 
first class, all-expense tours leave Chicago in 
January and February, 1909. Members may 
return independently, or with personally es¬ 
corted parties leaving Los Angeles eastbound. 

For itineraries and full information apply to 

S. A. Hutchison, Mgr. Tourist Department, 
Chicago, Union Pacific & North Western Line, 
212 Clark Street, Chicago, Illinois. 


56 




























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Cruise 


“Travel, in the 
younger sort, is a 
part of education ; 
in the elder, a part 
of experience.” 


$ A truly broad educa- 
h tion and wonderful experience it is to see the 

| ORIENT, EGYPT and the HOLY LAND 

74 full days of interest and pleasure via the 

t S. S. “Grosser Kurfuerst” 

ft 

leaving New York 
FEBRUARY 11th, 1909 
$350 up, round trip. 

y Carriage rides and sight seeing, at each port of call. 
;; No extras, excepting side trips. 

k-< 

a Write for descriptive booklet 

■ NORTH GERMAN LLOYD 

S OELRICHS & CO. 


Gen’l Agents 
5 Broadway, New York 

Or inquire of your local agent 


jar - j 



' \ \ m 



—— Y 

vmLf l If 




The prominent buildings 
from City Hall Park to 
the Battery, New York 
City, are furnished with 
CUTLER MAIL CHUTES, 


giving more than 1400 
special mailing stations, 
the average daily collec¬ 
tions from which amount 
to over four hundred thou¬ 
sand pieces, or more than one hundred 
and twenty million a year. 


THINK OF THE SECURITY, CERTAINTY 
AND EFFICIENCY THIS INDICATES 
—AND MAKE SURE YOU HAVE 



Mail Chutes 

We do not merely meet the letter of 
the Post Office Department's require¬ 
ments. We go beyond these require¬ 
ments to a far more exacting standard of 
our own which makes CUTLER MAIL 
CHUTES the ones absolutely safe to use. 

MODEL F, the last improvement, 
combines the efficiency of operation, 
satisfactory design and great beauty 
of finish for which our work has 
always been noted with a price 
lower than we could ever before offer. 

Let us figure on your building even if it is only 
four or five stories high and in a small town. 

CUTLER MFG. CO. 

200-204 Cutler Bldgs. Rochester, N. Y. 


57 






































Feel“Fine Air Heels 


Walk on air! Don’t thump, thump 
at every step. Just slip into your f 
and literally walk on air. All jar is / 
making Feel-Fines as far superior to [ 
tires are to solid tires. Occupy V 
wearer’s feet. If your local dealer V 
* pair postpaid on receipt of 25 cents^ 

THE CONSOLIDATED MFG. CO. 

v 379 Asylum Street ^ Atl 

Hartford. Conn. 


along, jarring brain and spinal column 
V shoes a pair of Feel-Fine Air Heels 
\ absorbed by the *' air channels/* 

1 solid rubber heels as pneumatic 
/ almost no space and conform to 
/ cannot supply you, we will mail 
and size of shoe. i 


We want some one 
in every city and 
town in the United 
States to sell our 


Income Insurance 


a plan which provides income 
and expenses for the insured in 
case he or she falls ill or becomes 
disabled. Good money for good 
workers. 

Write for particulars, stating 
whether you are interested in 
insurance or agents’ proposition 

Empire State Surety Co. 

86 William Street, New York 

Offices in all important cities 


WORK SHOPS 


wood and metal workers, without steam 
power, equipped with 

BARNES’ FOOT POWER allow 
MACHINERY 

on jobs and give greater profit on the work. 
Machines sent on trial if desired. Catalogue free. 

W. F. & JOHN BARNES CO- 
200 Ruby Street, Rockford, III* 


..ITPEWIHTEBSl 

ALL MAKES REBUILT at % to % 

manufacturers prices. Rented anywhere or 
sold on 3 months approval. Write for 
our money back guarantee, also Cata¬ 
logue and Special Price List. 

ROC KW EL L-H ARNES CO., 613 Baldwin Building, Chicago, ML 


fi)Ngp«CMr 


WRITE TO-DAY for our new free cat¬ 
alogue of handsome, artistic furniture. 
You save OVER HALF and you SEE 
and KNOW that you are getting the 
best obtainable—genuine quarter*sawtd 
white oak. “Money back, if you say so.” 

INTERNATIONAL MFG. CO. 
105 Edwin St., Ana Arbor, Mich. 


f j£i im&kSJ' KghtingSystem 

•/ W 1 M MIA 

lip 

. i.r ••• 

|||Lj§§ 5 g§| The most up-to-dateand complete lighting 

"illTvn system on the market. Beautiful fixtures for 

I the home. Attractive high candle power in- 

ItofMK Rfflf a verted arcs for stores, halls, etc. The best 

1 Hjjjg H 1 proposition going for hustling agents. Write 

1 fit? today for agents’ terms and territory. Hand- 

some catalogue free. 

1 ff 0 SUPERIOR MFG. CO., 

277 Second St., A nn Arbor, Mich. 

d 

* 


McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


KEITHS and TOO Plans 4 1 


^MAGAZINE 

The Popular pnd Leading 

Home Builder’s M onthly 

60 pages each issue full of practical, 
artistic ideas on building, decorating 
and furnishing homes. 

D:„*i HfLi.. A six month’s sub- 

ttig titter. scriptionto “ KeithV » 

and a copy of my new book of 100 
plans $1. Subscription price $1.50 a 
year. Single copies, news stands, 15c. 

A Full Year’s Subscription with any one of my $1 Books—$2. 

MAX L. KEITH, 334 LUMBER EXCHANGE, MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. 


No. 29. Cost 33400. Built In Minneapolis. 


My Splendid Big Book\ 

Containing 100 Designs for Attrac¬ 
tive Homes of Moderate Cost. 

In this collection there are 42 bunga¬ 
lows costing to build $400 to $3000. The 
book comprises the most popular 
houses selected from over 1000 plans 
and each design is a prize. Gives large 
floor plans and complete description. 

Some of my other books are:—100 
designs costing $2500 to $6000—$1; 192 
page book. Practical House Decoration 
—$1; 120 beautiful Interior Views—$ 1 ; 
100 all Cement, Concrete Block and 
English Half Timber Designs—$1. 


58 














































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


TRIPLE ACTION IS THE ONLY REAL SAFETY 

You don't need to worry about it. You don't need to wonder 
whether the “safety mechanism " is going to work or not. The 


THE 

O 



:arry 


TRIPLE ACTION 


HOPKINS 
&> ALLEN 

Safety PoliceRevolver 

Insures Absolute 

The third or safety action is so plainly ay 
action that a blind man can feel it and 
it when he feels. It isn’t an added-on mechai 
ism. It’s the action of the revolver that secures 
$afety r positive, perfect safety all the time. 

It shoots when you want it to shoot — 
quick and hard. When you don't want 
it to shoot, nothing can discharge it. 

This is the Safety Principle : The triple ac¬ 
tion takes the hammer out of the danger zone 
directly after firing, thus eliminating all dan¬ 
ger of accidental discharge. Until you actu¬ 
ally pull the trigger, the hammer at rest is 
always against a wall of solid metal—never in 
line with the firing pin as in all other revolvers 


rmyA*np 

^ives^r^teH^wTm hand-hold. 
This feature appeals particu¬ 
larly to the revolver enthusi¬ 
ast. 32 and 38 cal., 4 in.barrel. 

OUR 1909 GUN GUIDE IS FREE 

This free catalog gives many bar¬ 
gains in high-grade, low price 
firearms and much information 
regarding the selection, care and 
use_of arms. Send for it now. 


KIND 


(Trade 

Mark) 


COPS 


THE HOPKINS & ALLEN ARMS C0. f 12Che$nut St., Norwich, Conn. 


mm 


ATAKES it possible for everyone to 
iV - L own their own light works. Bet¬ 
ter than electricity—leas expensive. 
If you can afford, kerosene lamps 
you can afford the “Best” light. 
Full guarantee. Over 200 styles. Cat¬ 
alog free. Agents wanted. Write. 
THE BEST LIGHT CO. 

£29 E. 5th St., Canton, O. 


These 



package 


Cresc 
Crystal 


Fob cases of Stomai 


) DESSERT 
FOODS 
rL, Kmlte and Lived Troubles 

book oKcample, writs 

WN V H. Y. ( IKS.A* 



&H0MR 


priaM for Blue Print P 
| Detail. ud Specifications. 

JENS 0. PETERSEN ArcMteot 401 Stmte 



Special 
jprice '« 

only 

2 5 C a 

R8E CITY MICH. . 


“Jubilee Year” 
Page Fence 

* Page Fence is woven just 
— the same today as 26 years ago. A 
real triple knot — not a simple twietl 
Page Fence is made of High Carbon 
Steel of double the tensile strength and 
elasticity of common fence wire. 

Page Catalog— “Jubilee Edition”— SENT FKEE! 

Page Woven Wire Fence Co. 



That 

Holds 


“WELL, WELL! 
I HEAR YOU 
PERFECTLY 
NOW!” 



" I hear you anywhere in the 
room; why 1 could not hear 
ordinary conversation one loot 
away. 

“I have had the Acousticon 
now lor nearly a year and it is all in 
all to me. Gold could not buy it if I 
could not get another. 

“Garrett brown, 

“ St. Louis, Mo.' 

The experience of Mr. Brown is the 
same as that of thousands who are now 
using the Acousticon—to them we have 
said as we now say to you : 

“ Test the Acousticon and let i:s prove that it will make 
you hear easily, distinctly and clearly 

ENTIRELY AT OUR EXPENSE.” 

If you are not convenient to one of our many offices, you 
can test it at your own home, and if you do not hear satis¬ 
factorily the trial will not cost you one cent. No trial fee, 
no penalty . no expense whatever ip you do not hear. 

A very light and unnoticeable head band is furnished 
with the ear-piece ; its use makes it unnecessary to hold the 
ear-piece and leaves both hands perfectly free. Ladies 
who use the Acousticon dress > their hair so as to make the 
head band and ear-piece invisible. 

The Acousticon is the original electrical hearing device, 
fully protected by U. S. patents and you cannot secure any¬ 
thing as efficient under another name. 

Write for particulars of the Free Test, Booklet, etc., to 

THE GENERAL ACOUSTIC CO. 

823 BROWNING BLDG. 

Broadway & 32nd Street, : NEW YORK 


59 
































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


, Buffalo 

Litiiia Springs Water 


“The Most Effective of the Natural Mineral Waters’’ and 


“Strikingly Superior to Lithia Tablets” in Bright’s Disease, 
Albuminuria, Renal Calculi, Gout, Rheumatism, Etc. 

Dr. I. N. Love, New York City , former Professor of Clinical Medicine and Diseases of 
Children, College of Physicians and Surgeons and in Marion Sims College of Medicine, St. Louis , 
Vice-President of American Medical Association, 1895, etc., in an article in Medical Mirror, 
February, 1901, says: “While being the most effective of the natural mineral waters, It 
is strikingly snperior to emergency solutions of lithia tablets and pure water, even 
where the said solution is an exceedingly strong one.” 

Dr- Alexander B. Mott, New York, Professor Surgery, Bellevue Hospital Medical College, 
Surgeon Bellevue Hospital: “In the Gouty Diathesis, Chronic Inflammation of the Bladder and 
other diseases affecting the Urinary Organs, it may be relied on to give the most satis¬ 
factory results.” 


The Late Prof. W. B. Towles, M. D-, of the University of Virginia, had “no hesitancy 
whatever in saying that for Stone in the Bladder ... I know of no remedy at all com¬ 
parable to it.” 

Medical testimonials mailed. For sale by the general drug and mineral water trade. 


Buffalo Lithia Springs Water C9 


BUFFALO LITHIA 
SPRINGS. VIRGINIA 




J^BLACHf; 

TACErOWDER ^ “ 


The Berkshire Hills Sanatorium 


Winter Festivities 

intensify the necessity for a perfedt com- 
plexion. Lablache protects from the y 
rough, reddening winds. Refined 
women everywhere use Lablache, 
the wonderful beautifier. 

Refuse substitutes. They may be dan¬ 
gerous. Flesh, White, Pink or Cream, 
60c. a box, of druggists or by mail. 

Send lOc. for Sample JBooc. 

BEN. LEVY CO.. French Perfumers 
Dept. 19, 125 Kingston St. 
Boston, Mass. 


ITIflSON Freight Forwarding Co. 

ai 1 I |/Reduced rates on household goods 
to all Western points. 

443 Marquette Building, Chicago; 1501 Wright Building, 
St. Louis: 851 Tremont Building, Boston; 206 Pacific 
Building, San Francisco: 200 Central Building, Los Angeles 


Established Thirty-one Years. 

For the exclusive treatment of cancer and all other forms 
of malignant and benign new growths (except those in the 
stomach, other abdominal organs, and the thoracic cavity), 

With the Escharotic Method 

(without resorting to surgical procedure). 

Ask your family physician to make a personal investigation. 

This institution is conducted upon a strictly ethical basis. 

Complete information given upon request. Address, 

WALLACE E. BROWN, M. D. 

NORTH ADAMS, MASS. 


Fowler’s Florimel Lotion 

gives a clear, fresh, youthful complexion; banishes redness, 
roughness, tan and sunburn; quickly heals chapped hands, face 
and lips. Its purifying and emollient properties make the 
skin exquisitely soft, smooth, white, and in its natural healthy 
condition. A fragrant, enjoyable toilet necessity of felicitous 
Combination, appearance and quality, giving pleasing results 
and rare satisfaction. Ask for it, and take no substitute. 
There is nothing “just as good.” Artistic booklet and 
generous sized sample bottle free by mail. Address I 

FOWLER, MANF’O CHEMIST, New London, Conn, j 


6o 
















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


I Can Reduce Your Flesh 
Build Up Your Figure 
Correct Chronic Ailments 

Would you like to accomplish these results by 
natural means and in a scientific, dignified manner? 

I have helped over 20,000 women in the past six years by a few simple 
directions followed in the privacy of their own rooms. 

™ T o"l I can reduce you and at the same time strengthen stom- 
[ I OO r lesny . ac h anc j heart, and relieve you of such chronic ailments as: 

Constipation Rheumatism Dullness Sleeplessness 

Torpid Liver Weakness Irritability Weak Nerves 

Indigestion Catarrh Nervousness Weak Heart 

I strengthen whatever organs are weak; start your blood to circulating as 
when you were a child; teach you to breathe so the blood is fully purified. 

One Pupil Writes: 

"Miss Cocroft, I have reduced 78 pounds and I look 15 years younger. I have reduced those hips and I feel 
so well I want to shout. I never get out of breath now. When I began I wcs rheumatic and constipated,my heart 
was weak and my head dull, and oh dear, 1 am ashamed when I think how 1 used to lookl I never dreamed It was 
all so easy. I thought ljust had to be fat. I feel like stopping every fat woman I see and telling her of you." 

I nn *-|M • You can be round, plump, rested and attractive. Nature intended 

- * OQ _ ■ you to be, why should you not? A pupil who was thin writes me: 

"I just can’t tell you how happy I am. I am so proud of my neck and armsl Mybusts are rounding out 
and I have gained 28 lbs.; it has come justwhere I want it and I carry myself like another woman. My old 
dresses look styilsh on me now. I have not been constipated since mysecond lesson and 1 had taken something 
for years. My liver seems to be all right and I haven't a bit of indigestion any mare, for I sleep like a baby 
and my nerves are so rested. I feel so well all the time." 

- - J _ telling me your faults in health or figure, and I 
▼Y rue me louay will cheerfully tell you whether I can help you. 

Send lOcents lor instructive booklet showing how to stand and walk correctly . 

SUSANNA COCROFT, Dept. 95, 57 Washington St. § CHICAGO 

Author of “ Character as Expressed in the Body,” Etc. 

Miss Cocroft's name stands for progress in the scientific care of the health and figure of woman . 



DoYou Hear Well? 


The Stoli Electrophone — A New, Electrical, Scientific and Practical 
Invention lor those who are Deaf or Partially Deaf—MAT 
NOW HE TESTED IN TOUR OWN HOME. 


Deaf or partially deaf people may now make a month’s trial of 
the Stolz Electrophone at home. This personal, practical test 
serves to prove that the device satisfies, with ease , every 
requirement of a perfect hearing device. Write for particulars 
at once, before the Cffer is withdrawn, for by this Personal test 
plan \hefinal selection of the one completely satisfactory hear¬ 
ing aid is made easy and inexpensive for every one. 



This new invention, the Stolz Electro¬ 
phone (U. S. Patent No. 763,575) renders 
unnecessary such clumsy, unsightly and 
frequently harmful devices as trumpets, 
horns, tubes, ear drums, fans, etc. It is a 
tiny electric telephone that fits on the ear 
and which, the instant it is applied, mag¬ 
nifies the sound waves in such manner as to 
cause an astonishing increase in the dear¬ 
ness of all sounds. It overcomes the buzz¬ 
ing and roaring ear noises and, also, so con¬ 
stantly and electrically exercises the vital parts 
of the ear that, usually, the natural unaided 
hearing*itself is gradually restored. 

What Three Business Men Say. 

The Electrophone ia very satisfactory. Brine small in aiie 
and ureut in hearing qualities makes it preferable 
to any I have tried and. I believe, 1 have tried all 
of them M. W. HOYT. Wholesale Grocer. Blich- 
igat Ave. and River fct., Chicago. 

Mb*. 0. Lidicki, 238 12th Ave., May. I I got bo deaf I could not hear with my speaking 
wood, Ill., wears an Electrophone. I tube and was advised to try the Electrophone. 
Laai o onapicuoua than eye-glasses. I After fifteen years of deafness, discomfort and 
worry I now near perfectly at church and at con- 
oerta. W. R. UTLEY, Sale* Mgr., 3. A. Maxwell t Co.. Chicago. 


I hava now used your Electrophone over ■ year, and know that it ia a flret-claee, 
Boientjflo hearing device. Without it people have to shout directly in my ear to make 
me hear. With it, I can hear distinctly when spoken to in an ordinary tone. Best of 
all, it has iToppiD mt hud nomas, which were a terrible aggravation. LEWIS W. MAY. 
Cajhler, 100 Washington St., Chicago. 

Write to, or call (call if you can) at our Chicago offices for particulars of 
our personal test offer and list of other prominent endorsers who will an¬ 
swer inquiries. Physicians cordially invited to investigate aurists’ opinions. 

Stolz Electrophone Co., 1564 Stewart Bldg., 7th Floor, Chicago 

Branch Offices: Philadelphia,Cincinnati, Seattle, Los Angeles, Pittsburg, 
Indianapolis, Des Moines, Toronto. Foreign Office: 82-85 Fleet St., 
London, Eng. 



A/' As a beauty clean- 

up in cold weather, when the 
Af pores are contracted and inactive, the 
J skin needs the emollient cleansing effect N 
ff of D. & R. Perfect Cold Cream. Used 
' regularly on a hot, wet cloth, it dissolves and 
brings out dust and impurities from the pores, leaving 
the skin soft, clear and supple, thereby preventing dry 
ness, chapping and premature wrinkling. 


DAGGETT & RAMSDELL’S 

Perfect Cold Cream 


is so delightfully fragrant, creamy and refreshing that if you try 
the above you will not return to the soap habit. Ask anybody 
who uses it. Like all good things, it is imitated, so call for 
it by name. Sold in jars, 35c. up, and travelers' #—j 

tubes 10c. up, at best shops. Sample gratis by pest. 


Daggett & Ramsdell 

Dept. B 

D. & R. Building 
West 14th Street 
New York 


GOUld 


6i 






















































McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 



fOR WINTER 
IRRITATIONS 

Of face and hands is found in 
Cuticura Soap and Cuticura Oint¬ 
ment, when all else fails. For 
winter eczemas, rashes, itchings, 
chafings, chappings, redness, 
roughness, frost-bites, chilblains, 
itching, burning feet, as well as 
for preserving, purifying and 
beautifying the skin, scalp, hair and 
hands, Cuticura Soap and Oint¬ 
ment are absolutely unrivaled. 

Sold throughout the world. Depots: London. 27, 
Charterhouse Sq.; Paris. 6. RuedelaPaJx; Austra¬ 
lia. R. Towns & Co.. Sydney; India, B. K. Paul, 
Calcutta; China. Hong Kong Drug Co.; Japan. 
Maruya, Ltd.. Toklo; So. Africa. Lennon, Ltd., Cape 
Town, etc.; U S. A., Potter Drug & Chem. Corp., 
Sole Props.. 133 Columbus Ave., Boston. 

0®“Post-lree. New Cuticura Booklet, “Preserving 
and Beautifying the Skin, Scalp, Hair and Hands." 



Peter Moller’s 
Cod Liver Oil 


Is just pure cod liver oil- 
free from disguise, because 
none is needed. It is the 
impurity or adulteration in 
cod liver oil that makes it 
offensive to taste and smell. 
The purity of Moller's Oil 
makes it 


Free from Taste 
or Odor., 


II Is this purity that 
makes Moller's Oil so 
— digestible and without 
5? that nauseous'‘repeat" 


IT The genuine Ih sold tin/i/ in 
flat, oval Lott lea, imported 
from Norway bearing the 
name of 


- Schieffehn & Cc 


THE OLD SCHOOL-DAY EXPERIMENT 

of making a galvanic-electric current by 
placing the tongue between zinc and cop¬ 
per proves that these two metals aided by 
the natural moisture of the body produce 
a slight but actual electric current. 

LEE ELECTRIC INSOLES 

are made from aluminum with a plate of 
copper in one and a zinc plate in the 
other. They produce an electric current 
that begins at once to 

RELIEVE RHEUMATISM 

The beneficial effects are apparent within 
a few days. Rheumatic sufferers who 
have tried this simple scientific device 
testify to its signal effectiveness in un¬ 
equivocal terms. 

BEFORE YOU INVEST YOUR MONEY IN THESE INSOLES 

send to us for our booklet which explains 
their scientific operation upon the excess 
Uric Acid. We will also enclose zinc and 
copper strips for you to use on your tongue 
to prove the actuality of the current. 

LEE ELECTRIC INSOLE CO. 

ma Mutual Life Building Buffalo, N. Y. 


62 













































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



is quoted as follows in Collier's Weekly — 

"I have, after many years of smoking, a 
highly cultivated taste in tobacco, and I 
have discovered this two-cent smoke 
which most admirably adjusts itself be¬ 
tween the refinement of my taste and the 
limitations of my income. 11 

Santa Gloria 

the most popular cigar we have produced 
during our 40 years of business, will prove 
just the thing for you if you want a real 
smoke at a moderate price. The filler is 
guaranteed pure Havana—clear, clean 
stock—rolled by experts—panetela shape 
— 4\ inches long. 

If you appreciate real Havana tobacco, 
you will find it in the Santa Gloria—a 
quickly rolled cigar—not expensively fin¬ 
ished yet not a rough stogie. The Santa 
Gloria is not as pretty as some cigars—it 
isn’t made to look at—but for a smoke 
with the genuine Havana bouquet to it, 
you can't approach it anywhere in price. 

Santa Glorias are made only in the Jen- 
kinson factory—one of the cleanest in the 
country. Located right opposite the Union 
Station, in Pittsburg, it is open to inspection 
at all times. 

A trial box of 50 Santa Glorias will convince 
you that there can be no finer or better smoke for 
the money. At your dealer’s or direct from the 
makers. 

Encloie a dollar bill in an envelope, mail it to ua 
and we will promptly ship 

Express prepaid, Box of 50 for $1 

If for any reason, you don’t like them after 
smoking a few, return the balance, express 
collect, and we will refund your money. 

R. & W. Jenkinson Co. 

PITTSBURG, PA. 

41st Year—600 Employees. 



Dreams are slumber¬ 
ing ambitions wait¬ 
ing for opportunity. 

Opportunity is a force, visible only to those who 
are ready to grasp it. Your opportunity is right 
in front of you—the firm is just waiting for you to 
prove up. They don’t care who you are—it’s 
What you are. 

A better position is waiting for you— more pay — 
shorter hours—cleaner and easier work— authority 
•—just what you have been looking forward to and 
dreaming about. ARE YOU PREPARING 
YOURSELF FOR THIS ADVANCE? 


realized. 


SPECIAL TRAINING will count then, 


your hours of ** lamp study" will be rewarded. 

If you are built of the right timber, if you have 
been improving yourself instead of idling away your 
leisure hours, you will be ready when the call comes. 

Our “Home Study " course is just what you 
need to occupy your time during the long winter even¬ 
ings. Bright, pleasant, interesting studies that will 
rest you after a hard day’s work. The lessons 
are never long enough to tire. They are written by 
practical, technical men. 

Pick out the course that suits your taste and present 
employment—put your “X" before it today with a 
determination to make every spare moment count 
until your DREAMS ARE REALIZED. 

WE HELP MEN HELP THEMSELVES. 

AMERICAN SCHOOL OF CORRESPONDENCE 

CHICAGO, U. S. A. 


FREE INFORMATION COUPON 


FlU in and Mail Today. 


AMERICAN SCHOOL OP CORRESPONDENCE: 

Please send me free your valuable illustrated 200-page Bul¬ 
letin of engineering information and advise me how 1 can qualify 
for position marked “X." 


... .Electrical Engineer 
.... Draftsman 
... .Civil Engineer 

Mechanical Engineer 
... .Stationary Engineer 
... .Structural Engineer 
... Municipal Engineer 
... Railroad Engineer 
• •..Telephone Engineer 


_Heating and Vent. Engineer 

... . Plumber 
.. Architect 
.. Hydraulic Engineer 
... .Textile Boss 

Sheet Metal Pattern 
Draftsman 

... .College Preparatory 
Course 


Name ., 
Address 


Occupation 


McClure’s, 1-09 


63 



























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


on i ft :iini i s in aMi 

50c. AT YOUR DEALER, or by mail, postpaid, if he cannot supply you 

HEWES & POTTER, Dept. 4, 87 Lincoln St., Boston, Mass. 


When next in need of trouser-supports ask 
the man behind the counter to show you 

BULL DOG SUSPENDERS 

They Outwear Three Ordinary Kinds 

With gold-gilt metal parts, trimmings to 
match, light or heavy weight, or extra long 
as desired, BULL DOG SUSPENDERS 
are ideal for genteel or strenuous wear 

In Handsome, Single-Pair Boxes 
These Make Ideal Holiday Gifts 

Stretch Them—Test Them Vigorously 

More elasticity will quickly demonstrate added 
comfort for you and longer suspender wear 


"ODUA 





Whether Cow, 

Steer, Bull, or 
Horse Hide, Calf, Dog, 

Deer, or any kind of 
hide or skin with the 
hair on, soft, light, odor¬ 
less and moth-proof for 
robe, rug, coat or gloves, and make them up when 
so ordered. 


But first get our illustrated catalog, with 
instructions We are the largest custom fur 


THECROSBY 
' $ 3.85 



prices, shipping tags and 
tanners of large wild and 
domestic animal skins in 
the world. 

We make fur coats to 
sell, fur outside and fur 
lined; fur robes, gloves 
and mittens; also do tax* 
idermy and head mount* 
ing. 



The Crosby Frisian fur Company 

573 (yell Avenue, Rochester, H. V. 



64 



































































































































































































































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


New, Compact, Portable f? 
Standard Writing Typewriter X kJ 


For only $15 you can get this Junior Type¬ 
writer which does everything you would want 
the most expensive machines to do, as easily, 
quickly and neatly as you desire. So compact 
that it may be carried about in pocket or suitcase 
or slipped into desk drawer—yet big enough for 
every use. 

Does Work Equal to best $100 Machines 

You never had a chance like this before. The 
Junior Typewriter is the first practical, portable, 
standard keyboard, serviceable typewriter ever 
sold at a price within the reach of all. 

STANDARD KEYBOARD 

with 28 keys operated with both hands, printing 
81 characters—same as $100 machines. 

SAME SIZE AND STYLE OF TYPE 

and any language you want. Writes single or 
double space. Takes all sizes of paper up to 9 
inches wide. 

SPEED 80 WORDS A MINUTE 

which is much faster than the average person op¬ 
erates any typewriter. Writing always in sight. 



Simple, «irong. serviceable, compact, 
po rtable - meets all requirement a at_the 
remarkable price of $15.’ 


Standard two-hand^keybdardT^prlnta 
84 characters, same ai?e and style as 
big machines, takes same width paper,] 


LET US SEND YOU ONE ON APPROVAL 


BUILT ENTIRELY OF HARDENED STEEL 

Durable, made to Stand severe usage. Every Send your order for a Junior today, with money order or draft for $i5, and it 
part thoroughly tested before leaving factory will be shipped you, express prepaid. Money back if you do not find it every- 
Guaranteed for one year. Could not be better thing we claim for it. If you’d like to know more about the Junior before 

made at any price. ordering write today for our booklet. 


JUNIOR. TYPEWRITER COMPANY, Dept. 12. 331 Broadway, New York 

Business men, lawyers, clergymen, authors, students, young people at home—all need the “ Junior . n 
We want a representative in your territory. Write us today. 


•I Do You Know 
Whether You Are 
Getting Good Type¬ 
writer Paper? 

How do you buy it? 

«S Do you simply ask for so-much 
typewriter paper? 

4} Even though you call for the same 
□umber, you probably get one grade, 
one time, and another grade the next 
time. No uniformity. 

(]] You might as well send your office 
boy to buy clothes of size so and so. 

*]] There is as much difference be¬ 
tween typewriter papers as there is 
between clothes. You want some¬ 
thing that represents your taste and 
your character. 

*11 Old Hampshire Bond Typewriter 
Paper is now sold in boxes, at most 
stationers. 

You can identify it by the seal on 
the box, or by the watermark on every 
sheet of the paper. 



(Jypcumter $cipcr 


LOOK FOR THIS WATERMARK 



{]] It’s a paper which will worthily 
present and preserve your written 
word—whether a letter or a legal or 
business document, an essay or what¬ 
ever you may set down. 

4J Strong enough to stand much hand¬ 
ling. And its color-tones are per¬ 
manent. 

•5 Old Hampshire Bond Typewriter 
Paper is "made a little better than 
seems necessary.” A paper of highest 
quality, for those who have high 
standards, and who wish to evidence 
them in their stationery. 

In case you have difficulty in se¬ 
curing Old Hampshire Bond from 
your stationer, send us $2.00 and we 
will forward you, prepaid, a box of 
medium weight. 

A specimen book will 
be mailed upon request 

Hampshire Paper Co, 

South Hadley Falls, Mass. 

The only paper makers in the world 
making bond paper exclusively. 




































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


row 

'mam 

,"j i)j i jgfl 

OOIi 

I U) ] 

101 

111 lii^ IIh 


.Li.1. ■■ 

li 111 

1 liiiiii 


All genuine (poper 
garments bear the 
trade mark here shown 
Look for it and 
insist upon having it 

COOPER MFG.C0. 

BENNINGTON, VT. 



DERBY ^ RIBBED 

r^S^J gQ»STr«ae.O 

^0£rwe£5> 


GRADE DE LUXE 





The Silver that Will Be 
Given this Christmas 


will be notable for beauty of design and for 
durability if it bears the well-known stamp 
“ 1847 ROGERS BROS." To make or to receive 
such a gift is to know that it represents 
the very highest quality in silver plate. 

The variety of patterns from which 
selections can be made in 

'1847 ROGERS BROS" 


ware presents a wide latitude for choice. It should 
always be borne in mind that no other silver, except 
sterling, affords such meritorious service as this famous 
“Silver Plate that Wears.” 

To be had of best dealers everywhere. Send for 
Catalogue “A-33,” showing all patterns and designs. 


NEW YORK 


MERIDEN BRITANNIA COMPANY, Meriden, Conn. 

(International Silver Co., Successor. 

CHICAGO 

Meriden Silver Poliih, the “Silver Palish that Cleans 


SAN FRANCISCO 


66 


















































































































































































































































































































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



are the quickest to appreciate the real excellence of our Challenge collars and 
cuffs. For all kinds of sport, for business or for the more dressy social functions, 

^■''WATERPROOF 

Collars & Cuffs 

a perfect combination of style, good taste and economy. A faultless 
collar helps a stylish appearance more than any other article of 
dress—with a Challenge collar you’re always sure. 

Challenge collars are made in all the latest, most up- 
to-date models. They have the perfect fit, dull finish 
and dressy look of the best linen collars. Our new 
“ Slip-Easy ** finish permits easy, correct adjustment 
of the tie. 

Challenge collars and cuffs are absolutely 
waterproof, never turn yellow, can be cleaned 
with soap and water. You can’t tell them 
from linen. 

Sold by first-class haberdashers every where. If your 
dealer does not carry Challenge Brand collars and cuffs, 
send us 25 cts., stating size and style of collar you de¬ 
sire, or 50 cts. per pair for cuffs, and we will see that 
you are supplied at once. Our new booklet gives valu¬ 
able pointers about New York customs—what to 
wear and when to wear it. Let us send it to you. 

THE ARLINGTON COMPANY, 

Dept D. 725-727 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. 

Boston. 65 Bedford St. ; Philadelphia, 900 Chest¬ 
nut St.; Chicago, 161 Market St. ; San Fran¬ 
cisco, 718 Mission St.; St Louis, Mills Build¬ 
ing; Detroit 117 Jefferson Ave.; Toronto, 

58-64 Fraser Ave. 



This Vertical File 


HOLDS 20,000 LETTERS AND HOLDS THEM RIGHT 

Each large drawer holds 5,000 letters in 
most convenient, accessible shape. Only 
one place to look; instead of a dozen. In¬ 
stant reference to any correspondence COM¬ 
PLETE— letters you receive with your 
reply to each. 

For Every Purpose 
We make SEV¬ 
EN other styles of 
drawer for this one 
cabinet. Here’s 
one that holds a 
3x5 or a 4x6 card 
index. TWO of these double card drawers 
can be fitted in place of ONE of the large 
drawers5 this combination (No. 425) 
files 15,000 letters and 8,000 cards. 

Price, $15.00. Also 

Other drawers to hold checks, there are 

vouchers, documents, etc.,^^^WEIS Legal 
are shown in our catalog.^J^Files, WEIS Bill 
No matter what your Files an( j WEIS 
needs, a combi-Transfer Cases, all at 
nation can proportionately low 

madetofit^^^prices. See Catalog, 
them, ^ 


$ 


Construction 

WEIS Filing Cab¬ 
inets are built of Solid 
Oak, kiln dried, finished 
Golden or Weathered (atslight 
"advance, Mahogany Finish), 
Drawers are DUST PROOF, run 
on ROLLER BEARINGS, each has 
our Patent Follower Block for compactly 
holding a handful or a drawerful in good 
order. Oxidized Metal Fittings and every¬ 
thing else about these Files so good that we 
guarantee them absolutely—ship on approval 
—your money back if you say so. 

The best way to keep Drawings, Records, 
B1 ue Prints, Catalogs, Plans, Specifications, 
Estimates, and dozens of other things be¬ 
sides correspondence. 

Get posted on WEIS Filing Systems 
by writing for our Catalog. 

Your Dealer can supply you 
or if not we will fill your 


Patent 
applied for 


The Mfg. Co. 


Mfg. Co. 

j r l t\ 52 Union Street 

der f. o. b. Monroe. Our Monroe, Mich. 

new Catalog will help j wan t to get posted 

YOU select just on Weis Filing Systems. 

- J Please send me (free) your 

what you nzed.^^ Catalog. 

Name-— 

52 Union Street Stree t_ 

Monroe, Mich, City. 


67 

























■ 


McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



RIBBON QOTTIBL CREAM 


ANTISEPTIC 


'W0( 

W^v' 

’ ' ' N 4? 

Comes out 
lies flat on 


A RARE COMBINATION 

Delicious and at the same time 
thoroughly Antiseptic—because 
we know how to make an efficient 
dentifrice with a pleasing flavor. 


DELICIOUS 


a ribbon - 
the bru.sk 


Cleanses thoroughly without | 
scratching, gives a perfect 
polish to gold work. 

Trial tube sent for 4 cts. in stamps. 

COLGATE & CO., Dept. G f 55 John St. N.Y. 
Makers of Cashmere Bouquet Toilet Soap 



Running Water in Zero Weather 


Kewanee System of Water Supply 


No elevated tank exposed to all extremes in weather 
conditions. No freeze-ups in winter and no warm stag¬ 
nant water in summer. Instead, a Kewanee Pneumatic 
Tank is located in the cellar, or buried in the ground. 
It cannot leak, freeze, overflow or collapse. 

Water will always be on tap at the plumbing fixtures. 
Horses and stock can be watered in the barn. First- 
class fire protection assured for your buildings. 

Over 9,000 Kewanee Systems in operation, sup¬ 
plying water for country and suburban homes. 


farms, schools, public and private institutions, etc. 

The Kewanee System is the original water supply 
system, involving the use of air pressure instead of 
gravity pressure. There are imitations now—avoid 
them. Get the genuine and you will take no chances— 
we guarantee that. Look for our trade-mark f lfU 
and nameplates on tank and pumping machinery, 

No charge for expert engineering service. Let us 
help you solve your water supply problem. Write for 
our 64-page illustrated catalog No, 33. It is free. 

Kewanee Water Supply Company, Kewanee, Illinois. 

1566 Hod ton-Terminal Bldg. 50 Church St., New York City. 1212 Marquette Bldg. Chicago, ID. 710 Diamond Bank Bldg. Pittihorg, Pa. 


’"THERE is no longer any necessity for inconvenience 
* and repairs due to frozen tanks and pipes. No mat¬ 
ter how cold it may be, you can have a constant supply 
of fresh running water delivered at a usuable tempera¬ 
ture to all fixtures, if you install the 




68 



























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



A sensible practical design that wears well and will sell readily if you 
should ever wish to. Very important sometimes. One of many in Vols. 7 
and 8 scheduled below. Smaller less expensive designs in Vol. 6. 


^Eims mins AS built in w.va. 



A modification in brick of one of my Ladies’ Home Journal designs es¬ 
pecially studied for compactness of plan. In Vols. 4, S and 6 scheduled below 
are many variations of this plan in frame and brick construction. 



No. 1254. Similar to No. 941 in Vol. 5. A prize plan and a good “seller.** 
Second-story rooms full height. Den would make a good bedroom. 



One of many Bungalow designs we have of every variety of floor-plan 
arrangement. See Book of 190 Designs. (Vols. 1 and 2 combined.j Also 
for larger and better class of bungalows, Vols. 3 to 8. 


A WORD PERSONAL 

Thinking of building a new home? 

If so, you want to plan to spend every dollar to the best advantage, do 
you not? We believe we can show you how. 

For fifteen years, especially since my Ladies* Home Journal articles, 
I have made house-building my particular study, and have personally 



trained all my assistants. I will give you my very best efforl, because 
future business is secured by pleasing every customer. 

Here is the best collection of designs, and the most complete and care¬ 
fully drawn plans in the world. The dollar is merely evidence that you 
mean business. What is a dollar If it Inspires the idea for your new home ? 

W. J. KEITH, Prest. The Keith Co. 


Our latest books of plans, giving views, sizes, costs, etc. are: 

190 Designs of Small Cottages and I Vol. 5. 194 Costing $2000 to $2500 

Bungalows, Log Cabins, etc. I Vol. 6. 174 “ $2500 to $3000 

Vol. 3. 136 Costing $1200 to $1600 Vol. 7. 189 “ $3000 to $4000 

Vol. 4. 186 “ $1600 to $2000 | Vol. 8. 154 “ $4000 and up’d 

$1.00 eacb. Also on sale at all leading Book Sellers 

THE KEITH CO., Architects 

Minneapolis, ' Minn, i 



Fighting 

the Trust!! 


The Smashing Anil- 
Trnsl Fight Now On! 


s. 

Trust 
Prices 
Eclipsed at Last! 

An absolutely first-class high* 
grade watch at a price within 
the reach of the people—The Burlington Special 
No-Trust Watch. 


The World’s Masterpiece of watch manufacture—the 
Burlington Special—now sold direct to the public at Iti 
rock-bottom , no-trust price (and besides without middle¬ 
men’s profits). 

We do not care what it cosIst * 8 ^ 

dependent line and so we are making the most sweeping, 
baffling offer ever made on watches. 

Some trusts are legal and some are not. We do not say 
that the watch trust is Illegal; but we do say that the 
methods of the giant factories in making "contracts" with 
dealers to uphold double prices on watches is very un¬ 
fair-unfair to us and unfair to you. Hence our direct 
offer in the Burlington at the very same price the Whole¬ 
sale Jeweler must pay. 


This Is your opportunity— NO W— while this great no¬ 
trust offer lasts—get the best watch made anywhere at 
one-third the price of other high-grade watches. Fur¬ 
thermore, In order to fight the Trust moifc effectually, 
we even allow terms of $2.50 a month on our 
finest watch—easiest possible payments at the 


Fur- 
ally, A 
iur 

J* 


rock-bottom price, the identical price the 
Wholesale jeweler must pay. v 

Watch Book on request f & 


r 


cs^ & 


Now do not miss this 
opportunity. At least we 
want you te know about 
WATCHES and WATCH 
BRICES- Write Today. 

Bo pouted 

Send a postal or letter 
or simply mail coupon 
without sending a letter 
and get the free nook. 

BURLINGTON 

WATCH CO. ^ 

Dept. 1 021 ▼ , A o* 

Millar* Sta. ^ C° c? 

Cbi«.o.^^ 

^ <r<swr 

► . A 


A° 


Vj& 




/ 

k. - . f 




< y o v . 






?<§- 


r<r44t/‘‘ /' * 






o^V 


r 




69 



















































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 




:Iy prevents accidental discharge 
solid bar of steel stands betweeB^b«^ermmer 
except when the trigger is pulled way back to 
all other times it positively prevents the fi 
ing in contact with the cartridge. (See ill 
any way. the Colt Positive Lock absolutely 
discharge. This was one of the points reco 
States Ordnance Board which recommendeu^ 
superior to all others, but it is only one feature 
accuracy and durability make it superior to any 

Colt Arms may be had in all desirable calibers and niodels — fr< 
for the vest pocket, to the .45 Caliber Automatic, pd^ket and 

serviceable, holster 


Positively 

L ocked 
Until 


Guaranteed for use with 
standard factory-loaded 
ammunition, either black 
or smokeless powder. 


calibers and Models — frdV the new,|25 Caliber Aul 
Automatic. pocket and jfluse revolvers m 32 and . 
serviceable, hoist er^^^l^is, like thj/Army Special c 
and the finest hat^mushed targeMftodels. There i 
formation in our nWfc7 iust issued 
it> It's free. 


Colts fire T arms Mf 


HARTFORD 



FAY & BOWEN 

Motor Boats 


A LEADER FOR 1909 

OUR 25 FT. “SPECIAL” 

We sold more of "car” fine 
Launches in 1908 than in 190?. 

Yet “they say” 1908 was a poor 
year. 

Eighty per cent of them went 
where our boats were already in 
use and had made a reputation. 

Not the cheapest—but 
Utmost value for your money. 

Send for catalogue of boats and engines. 

FAY & BOWEN ENGINE CO. 

92 LAKE ST., GENEVA, N. Y., U. S. A. 


\/im IN OF SMOOTH, 
Vlv/Lllll FINE tone 

The purchase of a violin is an important thing. Why not get 
the best musical value to be had ? The Lyon & Healy Cremona- 
tone Violin is world-famous, and if you will read its history you 
will understand why it excels all imita¬ 
tions and why soloists |UI everywhere gladly 

pay its price, which | IVI 1S $100. The Stu¬ 
dent Violin is also the leader in its class- 

price $15. Let us send you our Musical Handbook, which tells 
all about violins and all other musical instruments. 312 pages, 
1100 illustrations. 

LYON * HEALY 

84 Adams Street, CHI CACO __ 

IT PAYS BIG 
To Amuse The 
Public With 


■traction Book and ‘-Busina** Guide" tells alL 
We furnish Complete Outfit with Big Adver¬ 
tising Fosters, etc. Hnmorou* dramas brimful 
of fun, travel, history, religion, temperance 
work and songs illustrated. Oneman candoiL 
Astonishing Opportunity in any locality fof 
a man with a littl e money to show in chnrches, 
school houaei, lodge halls, theaters, etc. and 

operate Five Cent Theatres ‘HJSi* 

Motion Picture Films and Song Slides rsntad. 
Profits $10 to over $100 per night. Others 
do it, why not you 7 It* s easy; write to ns, we' 11 tall you how. Catajog 

Amusement Supply Co. 0 8 .u'Iw c ™ A r«2£ 



Motion Pictures 

NO EXPEDIENCE NECESSARY as our in- 



I 


TYPEWRITERS mVk 


All the Standard Machines SOLD or RENTED ANY 
WHERE at^toK M’F’R’B PRICES, allowing RKNTAn 
TO APPLY ON PRICE. Shipped with privilege * 
examination, ty Writ® for Illustrated Catalog H. 
TYPEWRITER EMPORIUM, 02-D4 Lake 81., CHICAGO 


70 


















































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


Woman’s World 


★ * 


* 

* 

¥ 

¥ 

¥ 

★ 

¥ 

¥ 

¥ 

¥ 

¥ 

★ 

¥ 

¥ 

¥ 

¥ 

¥ 

¥ 

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* ANNIVERSARY ISSUE * ** 


CONTRIBUTORS 

JANE ADDAMS. 

REX BEACH. 

CHAUNCEY OLCOTT, Actor. 
HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD. 
GEO. ADE. 

FORREST CRISSEY, 

Advisory Editor Woman’s World. 
GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON. 

EDWIN W. SIMS. 

JOSEPH MEDILL PATTERSON. 
ELIA W. PEATTIE. 

ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. 
OPIE READ. 

ROSWELL FIELD. 

MAUD RADFORD WARREN. 
ANNE WARNER. 

Author of **The Rejuvenation of Aunt 
Mary ,' ’ etc. 

CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM, 
Author of “ The Jewel, " “ The Open 
Shutter,' ’ etc. 

ELLIOTT FLOWER, 
WILLIAM HODGE, Actor . 
GEORGE M. COHAN. 

Actor and Dramatist. 

EDWIN BALMER. 
STANLEY WATERLOO. 
Associate Editor Woman's World . 
EMILY CALVIN-BLAKE. 

DELLA CARSON, 

$10,000.00 Prize Beauty. 

HENRY M. HYDE, 

Editor Technical World. 

GEN. CHAS. KING. 

CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY. 

WILL PAYNE. 
MARGARET E. SANGSTER. 
ROSETTA. 

ADLAI E. STEVENSON, 
Former Vice President of the U. S. 

S. E. KISER. 

GEO. B. FORREST, 

Editor Woman ’s World. 

WM. A. EVANS, 

Com. of Health, City of Chicago. 
HARRY VON TILZER, Composer. 
JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. 
ELSIE JANIS, Actress. 
FRANK L. STANTON. 
WILBUR D. NESBIT. 

FRANK P1XLEY, Dramatist. 
MAUD BALLINGTON BOOTH. 


FREE 


Containing the 
GREATEST 
LIST 
of 

Contributors 

and 

Interesting 

Features 

EVER 

PUBLISHED 
in One 
Issue of a 
Magazine. 

These 
Names 

are 




★ 
¥ 
★ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
¥ 
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¥ 

_ ,_ ¥ 

IJITVtmckn’c! lA/nulll has the largest circulation:in the world-over 2,000.000 copies monthly. V 
WV Oman » VV orm The above list of contributors and features all appearing in the ★ An- 
niversary Issue, will give you an idea of the merit of this greatest national low-price magazine. Some of the jr 
features to appear in the next few issues are—anewtwo part serial, “The GlMmm^OnoMS. pyu <‘ in ’ S 
McCutcheon; “Does the Modern Comic Opera Educate?” by Geo. M. Cohan The Romance ot the ^ 

Cave Man:" six completely related short stories by Stanley Waterlog, author of The 5toi f ol Ao. 

New Arkansas Traveler Stories, each complete in itself, by Opie Read, the originator t^e Arkan- COUPON 

sas Travelers; “A Maid of Millions," by one; “One Path to Ruin, by Hon W bims• woman’s 

“What is Sweeter Than Irish Music?” a new song by Chauncey Olcott, Irish Star and author n 

“Day Dreams,” etc., and many other equally fascinating contributions. W °etPhi 

ITWITl? AFliTP In order to introduce Woman’s World we will send this ^ 46-4 *' Mo " r °!L " “5"' 
* Ktifcj vfr r t»K re mar liable if Anniversary issue, containing stones, n „ p S ' a 0 r r 

songs and articles by all the writers and contributors referred to above, free and ^ WOMAN S WORLDoneyear. 
extra, al once, to all who send us only 25 cents now to pay for a year s Jj y ^* Send me extra at once your ★ An- 
subscription to this great magazine. Use this coupon. niversary Issue, containing all of the 

Sub. Dept., 46-48 W. JT features and writers you advertise. 

Woman s Worla Monroe S.: Chicago. / 

NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS AND ADVERTISERS— Woman's World 
ia NOT sold on news stands. Every copy sent direct from publication office- 

★ ★★★★★★★★★★★★ ★ ★ ~ 


all 

Contributors 
to this 
One Issue 
Which 
is Sent 

FREE 

AND EXTRA 

as below: 


FEATURES 

The Sins of Society, 

by Joseph Medill Patterson, author 
of “A Little Brother of the Rich.” 
The White Slave Trade of To¬ 
day, by Edwin W. Sims. U. S. Dis¬ 
trict Attorney in Chicago who pros¬ 
ecuted the Standard Oil Co. in the 
famous $29,000,000 case. 

Why Girls Go Astray, 
by Edwin W. Sims. 

Wolves That Prey on Women, 

by Jane Addams of the Hull House. 
Chicago. 

Should Girls Be Permitted to 
Marry Old Men, by Rosetta. 
How I Won the $10,000 Prize, 

by Della Carson; a True Story. 

The Most Interesting Thing In 
the World, by George Ade. 

A Word About Wayward Girls, 

by Ophelia L. Amigh, Superintend¬ 
ent Illinois State Training School 
for Girls. 

A View of Christian Science, 

by Clara Louise Burnham. 

The Warp and Woof of Ro¬ 
mance, by Margaret E. Sangster. 
A Pot of Irish Porridge, 

by Chauncey Olcott, the Prince of 
Irish Actors. 

The Stage-Struck Girl, 

by Elsie Janis, Star in "The Van¬ 
derbilt Cup,” “The Hoyden,” etc. 
Love-Making In Foreign Lands, 
by Frank Pixley, Author of "King 
Dodo,” “Prince of Pilsen,” etc. 

The Sins of the Fathers, 

by Cyrus Townsend Brady Author 
of “A Little Traitor to the South.” 

TWO NEW SONGS 

Never before published, the words and 
music complete, by George M. Co¬ 
han, author of “Under Any Old Flag 
At All,” “The Yankee Doodle Boy,” 
“Give My Regards to Broadway,” and 
Harry Von Tilzer, author of 
“Honey-Boy,” “Teasing ” etc. 

Many other unusual and strik¬ 
ing features. 

Woman's World is edited by Forrest Crissey 
Stanley Waterloo and Geo. B. Forrest. 




Address 


Date. .. 


7i 










McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 




They're made to measure 

Putman Boots. 

Go on like a glove^/id fit all over. 


cost no more than others. Seod forcatalogueol over 40 different styles or boots and sell measurement 
blanks. Also Indian Tanned M oose Hide Moccasins. Illustration shows No. 200,14 inches high, 
Bellows Tongue, Uppers made of Putman’s Special Vegetable Tanned Calf Skin, 
tanned with the grain of the hide left on, thus making the leather water proof. Black 
or Brown color. Made to measure and delivered in the U,S., Can..orMex for $8.00 
H, J. PUTMAN & CO. 28 HENNEPIN AVE. MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. 




LEADING AMERICAN 

SEED CATALOG 

“Better than ever ”for 1909 

An Elegant Book of 174 Pages, —it is “The 
Silent Salesman” of the World’s Largest Mail- 
Order Seed Trade. It tells th zplain truth about 
the Best Seeds that can be grown,—as proved at 
our famous Fordhook Farms, —the most com¬ 
plete Trial Grounds in America. Handsomely 
bound in covers lithographed in nine colors, it 
shows, with the beautiful colored plates (also in 
nine colors), Seven Superb .Novelties in Vegeta¬ 
bles, Three New “ Spencer” Sweet Peas and the 
most beautiful New Giant-flowered Pansies,—all 
accurately painted from nature in Europe and at 
our own farms in America. With hundreds of 
illustrations from photographs and carefully writ¬ 
ten descriptions, it is A Safe Guide to success in 
the garden and should be consulted by every one 
who plants seeds, whether for pleasure or profit. 
While too costly a book to send unsolicited (except 
to our regular customers), we are pleased to mail 
it FREE to every one who has a garden and per¬ 
sonally writes for it. Shall we mail YOU a copy ? 
If so, kindly write your address plainly and mail 
postal —To-day ! 

W. ATLEE BURPEE & CO. 

Seed Growers 

BURPEE BUILDING PHILADELPHIA 


“ It Rolls the Pain Away ’* 

OLIVER Electro-Rol 

*1 Is a combination of the two greatest Thera- 
reutic agencies known to Medical Science for 
the relief of pain and suffering. 

^ Has never failed to relieve the t pains of 
Rheumatism and Lumbago in two to 
three treatments. 

Cl Insomnia, Indigestion and 
Headache instantly yield to its action. 

Easy to Operate—Anyone can use iU 
CJ Strongly endorsed and used by Hos¬ 
pitals, Physicians and other promini 
people. 

IS A SPLENDID THING FOR 
HOME AND TRAVELER. 

<] Sold on the Trial Plan. Send for 
lull information to-day. 

OLIVER MANUFACTURING CO.. Idc. 
1024 Walnut St., Philadelphia, Fa., U. 8. A. 


“Gem” Adding Machine 1 
free 10-day (rial at our eipease 

£ an *ti Automatic Carrier »nd 
i Resetting Revice that clean 
tl * dial* to t*io. Dee* tht work 
dhiab priced machine*. 2yean 
VRITTER GUARANTEE 
Special offer to spent*. Address 

B. D. GANCHER 
Automatic Adding Machine Co. 

S19 Broadway, N. V. 


BIG MONEY IN TAXIDERMY! 

You can earn from $25 to $50 per Week in this most** 
fascinating profession. We teach by mall and guarantee 
luccen or refund tuition. You can double your presentin- 
Come using only your spare time. We tell you e very trade secret, 
i quickly learn to mount hi ids and animals, tan skins,etc. 
SPORTSMEN and NATURALISTS, mountyourown 
specimens! You can Have hundreds of dollars and 
beautifully decorate your home or your office. 
FREE —Beautiful Taxidermy Boobs and full 
particulars of thi s work. Send name and address. 


you 





“Everyone Exclaims About Our Lights!” 

u THE LAMPS are splendid. Everyone exclaims About the Amount of Light they give,” writes 
Mrs. W. T. Reese, Tiffin, Ohio. “ My City friends visiting here say they are as good as Gas. 
In fact, my home is now considered the best lighted house in the county. Why, when we go visit- 
ing our neighbors of an evening it is hard to keep from exclaiming about the poor light they have?” 

The Angle Lamp is the new method of burning common kerosene oil, and is as different from the ordinary lamps in results as it is in 
It makes common kerosene the best, the cheapest and the most satisfactory of all lighting methods. Safer and more 
reliable than gasoline or acetylene, yet as convenient to operate as gas or electricity. 

THE ANGLE LAMP 


is lighted and extinguished like gas. May be turned high or low without odor. No smoke, 
no danger. Filled while lighted and without moving. Requires filling but once or twice a 
week. It floods a room with its beautiful, soft, mellow light that has no equal 

And yet the lamp actually pays for itself. For while the ordinary roundwick lamp, usually 
considered the cheapest of all lighting methods, bums but about 5 hours on a quart of oil, The 
Angle Lamp burns a full 16 hours on the same quantity. But send for our catalc g " D " ex¬ 
plaining the new principles employed in this lamp, and for our proposition for selling on 

30 HAYS’ TRIAL. 

Wouldn’t you like to have your home admiringly referred to by your neighbors as *' the best 
lighted house in the county ”—if you k?ie7t> such a light would cost so much less than your 
present system as to pay for itself in a few months’ use? Then write for catalog “D ” de- 
scribing The Anele Lamp fully and listing 32 varieties from $2.00 up. It is free for the asking. 

THE; ANGLE MFG. CO., 159-161 West 24th Street. New York 


72 


































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 




A Safe Investment for Your January Funds 

^(^|OUR dividend earnings for the past few months should yield you 6% interest for the new 
1 / year. A-R-E 6% Gold Bonds offer you an opportunity to participate in the safest and 
most profitable business in the world—the purchase and improvement of New York City 
real estate along the line of the city s greatest growth. 

By investing in A-R-E 6 % Gold Bonds you secure the three essentials of an ideal investment: 

ABSOLUTE SECURITY LIBERAL RETURN CASH AVAILABILITY 

/fff'HESE Bonds are secured by the entire Assets of the American Real Estate Company—over 
ill J $11,000,000.00. For 21 years this Company has paid 6 % interest—has returned nearly 
$4,000,000.00 in interest and principal to thousands of investors. Issued in two forms : 


6% COUPON BONDS 

For Those Who Wish to Invest $100 or More 

For Income Earning —sold at par in denominations of 
$ 100, $500, $ 1000, $5000, or any other desired amount 
in even hundreds; paying 6# interest semi-annually by 
coupons attached, carrying the privilege of surrender 
for cash. 


6% ACCUMULATIVE BONDS 

For Those Who Wish to Save$25 or More aYear 

For Income Saving —purchaseable by instalment pay¬ 
ments covering terms of 10, 1 5 or 20 years; payments 
and interest payable in cash at maturity. The yearly 
payment rates per $1000 Bond are: 10-year term, $71.57; 
1 5-year term, $40.53; 20-year term, $25.65. 


Write today for literature giving complete information, including map of New York City showing location of 
the Company’s properties. 

American 3fceal estate Company 


DIRECTORS : 

EDWARD B. BOYNTON, President 
DYER B. HOLMES, Vice-President 
HAROLD ROBERTS, 2 d Vice-President 
WILLIAM B. HINCKLEY, 3 d Vice-Pres 
FRANCIS H. SISSON, Secr-tAry 


Founded 1888 
Assets over $ 11,000,000 
Capital and Surplus over $1,600,000 

502 Night and Day Bank Bldg. 
527 Fifth Ave., New York 


73 









































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


A 

“Vaseline Handbook” 
for You! 

It contains valuable and use¬ 
ful information about the dif¬ 
ferent kinds of 

VASELINE 

IN CONVENIENT, SANITARY, 

PURE TIN TUBES 

and explains their many uses. 

For instance: 

Howto relieve rheumatism,.colds 
in the chest, toothache, etc., with 
the wonderful counter irritant, 

CAPSICUM VASELINE. 


How to antiseptically treat cuts, 
sores, bites, etc., with 

CARBOLATED VASELINE. 

How to relieve a nervous head¬ 
ache or neuralgia with 

MENTHOLATED VASELINE. 

How to heal chapped skin with 

VASELINE CAMPHOR ICE. 

How to keep the skin in a soft 
and healthy condition with 

VASELINE COLD CREAM. 


How countless little ailments can 
be helped by the external and 
internal use of 

WHITE VASELINE. 

How to relieve catarrh with 

BORATED VASELINE. 


FREE--This attractive and interesting Vaseline 
Book contains many hints and practical infor¬ 
mation for relieving the small ills, aches and 
pains common in every household. Write for 
a copy today. It's as important an adjunct to the 
medicine chest as a cook book is to the kitchen. 

CHESEBROUGH MFG. CO. 


Proprietors of Every “ Vaseline” Product 




etachable Leaf Ledger 

constructed upon the power-pressure screw 
nciple. Its jaws firmly grip the binding 
rtion of the sheets, assuring perfect security 
d alignment. It is the highest product 
the machinists’ and bookmakers’ art. 

Write us for Catalogue A, and sample Bond 
Hinge Ledger Sheet. 


THE RICHMOND & BACKUS COMPANY 

DETROIT, MICHIGAN 


1 niirif C THAT LIVE ARE THE ] 
L lrniV/IVJ ONES THAT COVNT 

"Vou personally get our guarantee of Largest'' 

Hatches of Strong Chicks when you buy 
Cyphers 1909 Incubator—Fire-Proofed—Insurable 
Built on the principle that has been proved best by ■ 
beginners and by experts. Take no fire risks. Write! 
for our Free Poultry Guide. It starts you right. 

Cyphers Incubator Company,Buffalo.N.Y. | Insurable 

Boa ton, Mae a.: Nrmr York Cltr; Chicazo. I1L: Kansas City, Mo.; Oakland. CAL 

SECURED OK 
FEE RETURNED. 



PATENTS 

f - ... rt U /X 1 W T 1 n A C- T K. ’■•Ate 


Free opinion as to patentability. 
Guide Book, List of Inventions Wanted, and 100 Mechani¬ 
cal Movements free to any address. Patents secured by us adver¬ 
tised free in World’s Progress. Sample copy free. 

EVANS, WILKENS & CQ„ 845 F Street, Washington, I). C. 

AROUND THE 
WORLD CRUISES 


ORIENT 


Bind 


By S.S. ARABIC—16,000 Tons—Feb. 4, Oct. 16 
30 TOURS TO EUROPE. $250 Up 
F. C. CLARK. Times Building, New York 

5 0y INTEREST PAID on time certificates 
/ of deposit for any amount. Bank by 
/ mail. Increase your income. Write to-day. 

(O FIRST NATIONAL BANK, Billings, Montana 



*Get 

at a price to suit 
you direct for a 

BLACK 

MOTOR BUGGY 

Built for country roads, hills 
mud. Engine—10 H. P., 2 cylinders, 
chain drive rear -wheels, double brake. Speed 2 
25 m. perhr.—SO miles on 1 gal. of gasoline, 
quality finish, workmanship and materials, 
lutely safe and reliable. Write for Book No. A 
BLACK MFO, CO.. 124 E. Ohio St.. Chicago. III. 


74 









































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 




Thurman’s 
Portable 
Electric 




The man 
who owns 
a Thurman 
mechanical 
cle a n i n g 
wagon Makes 
Money. We 
are ready to 
prove that 


Vacuum 

Cleaner 


$3,000 
Can Be 
Made 


The most perfect Electric Portable Cleaner and latest 
triumph of J. S. Thurman, originator of vacuum cleaning 
machinery after years of experience in designing, build¬ 
ing and operating this class of machines. It is light, 
operated by the housemaid, mechanically perfect, easily 
portable and built to last and stand wear. Absolutely 
constant suction is created by the vacuum pump 
through cleaning apparatus to the dust tank, which 
removes dust, dirt, grime, moth eggs, vermin, etc., 
from flooors, rugs, carpets, draperies, tapestries, 
upholstery, etc. without wearing, tearing, beating, 
or brushing. It accomplishes sweeping, renovat¬ 
ing and dusting at the same time. 


This year—next year — 
and the years after Clean 
ing Houses by our patented 
machinery, by energetic, com¬ 
petent men. Over 500 opera 
ors in as many towns in the 
United States. 

We make the moat efficient stationary 
systems for Carpet CleanerB. Tailor 
Shops, Laundries, Residences, Hotels 
Office Buildings, etc. Outfits from $450 
to $3,000. We own the patents and are 
prosecuting all infringers. Write for catalog 

General Compressed Air 
and Vacuum Machinery Co. 
4443 Olive St., Dept. H, St. Louis, Mo. 


Latest Improved House 
Cleaning Apparatus 


It can be operated in any building wired for 
electric lighting and is the only portable 
vacuum cleaning machine which will do 
the work in a perfectly satisfactory man¬ 
ner. Not a toy, but a practical device 
which saves its cost in labor, wear and 
tear in a short time. 

Tools for special work, stair and 
stair edge, tapestry, upholster} 7 , 
tuft button, wall, wood floor, clothes, 
face and body massage and many 
others are given with this ma¬ 
chine. It more than makes up 
in quality and efficiency for the 
difference in cost between this 
andinferior makes of cleaners. 

Price for Thurman Portable^Elec¬ 
tric Vacuum Cleaner, direct cur¬ 
rent, $150.00. Alternating current. 
$165.00. 

Sent on one week’s trial; if 
not aa represented, money re¬ 
funded. Catalog and price list 


free. 


The largest man* 
ufacturers of 
Cleaning ma* 
chinery in the 
world. 




75 


l 

























































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



CLEOPATRA TESTING THE POISON 


Front the painting by A. Cabanel 


Beacon Lights of History 

New Popular Illustrated Edition at Half Price 

Including a Year’s Subscription to " McClure’s Magazine” 

Through McClure’s History Club 


W E have long desired to offer in connection with ” McClure’s Magazine’ 9 at a low special price, 
the best historical and biographical series obtainable. After a thorough inquiry we are satisfied that this 
has been found in the great set of 15 splendid volumes by the celebrated historian. Dr. John Lord, 
aptly named ” Beacon Lights of History.” With us it isn't a case of book selling for profit, but of 
offering the strongest possible inducement to add yearly subscribers to ” McClure’s.” 


The Story 
oi ihe 

World’s Life 


C, Dr. Lord’s ambition that his historical and biographical writings should tell the 
wonderful story of this world of ours in-a plainer, more natural way than it had ever 
before been told—should tell it in a way so interesting that all the essentials of 
history would be remembered by the reader, has been fully realized. 


Original 

Subscription 

Edition 


it was the author’s earnest wish that his completed work should eventually he 
placed within easy reach of his countrymen. The stupendous original cost of producing 
this great work, with the many superb illustrations, made it necessary to sell the first 
subscription edition at an average price of $45.00 per set. 


Illustrated Popular Edition 


A Great 

Publishing 

Achievement 


C. In deference to Dr. Lord's desire, and to make known even more widely the excep¬ 
tional value of the work, it was decided to print a single popular edition, lor 
quick distribution in the most economical way— direct from publisher to 
buyer, and at a price and on terms easily within the reach of everybody. To aid in 
making this low price possible, the heirs of Dr. Lord generously reduced their royalties, 
for this single edition, and exceptionally favorable manufacturing contracts have brought 
the cost of each individual set down to bed rock. The new edition is printed from the original plates, on splendid 
paper, with 174 superb full-page illustrations, the frontispiece of each volume being in colors. The volumes are 8^ 
by 6 inches in size and contain an average of 400 pages each. The binding is a rich, dark green silk cloth, stamped 
in gold— a set of books you will delight in and be proud to show to your friends. 

76 













✓ m 


T 


McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


. 




The Complete Set of 15 Volumes 


Sent Free for Your Examination 


TNSPECTION and reading alone can convey an adequate idea of the value of “ Beacon 
Seeing is ± Lights” in your library. We know this, and are therefore willing to send you the 

5 Believing entire set for examination, transportation charges paid. We do not ask you 

for a penny until you decide to retain the volumes, then a small initial payment and 
two dollars monthly, less than seven cents per day. 

C, Within present limits it is possible ro print a brief synopsis of only 
Volume 8. Note how Lord sets up great historical characters as 

range-lights along the course of the centuries, keeping the reader well 
within the main channel of events, all the while gazing upon the won¬ 
derful, moving panorama on either side. 

C. The set of fifteen beautiful volumes literally 
CoVCrS the covers the centuries. Dr. Lord introduces the 
Centuries reader to a majestic assemblage of all the fa¬ 
mous characters of history. Great men 
and women are your companions, and with them you travel along an 
unbroken course of 6,000 years. You are introduced in turn to Con¬ 
fucius, Caesar, Cleopatra, Charlemagne, Cardinal Richelieu, Catherine IN 
of Russia and hundreds of others. 

Prized and Commended 

by such noted scholars and educators as President Eliot of Harvard, 

Dr. Andrew D. White of Cornell University, Rev. Newell Dwight 
Hillis D.D. 


VOL. VIII.—GREAT RULERS 

ALFRED THE GREAT: 

The Saxons in England. 

QUEEN ELIZABETH : 

Woman as a Sovereign. 

HENRY OF NAVARRE ' 

The Huguenots. 

GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS: 

Thirty Years' War. 

CARDINAL RICHELIEU: 
Absolutism. 

OLIVER CROMWELL: 

English Revolution. 

LOUIS XIV: 

The French Monarchy. 

LOUIS XV: 

Remote Causes of the French 
Revolution. 

PETER THE GREAT : 

His Services to Russia. 
FREDERICK THE GREAT: 

The Prussian Power. 


C. Dr. Patton, Ex-President Princeton University, says: “'Beacon Lights’ takes high rank. Many owe their 
enthusiasm in the study of History to Lord.” 

C. Hon. Hoke Smith, Governor of Georgia, writes: “I prize no books in my library more than ‘Beacon 
Lights of History.’ ” 

A complete exhaustive Index and the “Topical Questions" make “ Beacon Lights" invaluable to the student McC. 

both for reference and serious study. MeCJnre’a 

c p| _ Coil| Simply Send the Coupon — no money, and we will send the complete set of 

15 volumes, prepaid, and enter your subscription to McClure’s Magazine for one year— yA .s'" p , 

Oil from expiration, if you are already a subscriber. If the books are entirely satisfactory approva^xprVss^aJcL 

Approval to y° u a ^ ter examination, you remit the small monthly payments named in the coupon. a complete' set. 15 vol- 

If the books are not satisfactory to you, send them back at our expense. Should umes, of Lord’s “ Beacon 

you return the books no charge will be made for the numbers of the magazine delivered. Re- cP..- y Lights of History ■■ and enter 
member that if you accept this great offer, you will get the best and most interesting historical s ‘\. my ® l i b ^ cr, ? tion to m cClurh s 

series ever produced, the best magazine “at any price ” and the McClure guarantee of complete the books sans factor^! S' send you 

satisfaction. Sign and mail coupon to-day and take advantage of this great club oiler. ..*** ji.oo within 10 days and | 2.00 per month 

Do It now—before It slips your mind. will ?eiurn th^wiSTi^io day" « 

MCCLURE’S HISTORY CLUB 

44-60 East 23d Street, New York >•* If jtju prefer Vf leather binding, change $19.50 to f25.00. 


77 













McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



T HE Gospel of Paint as we know it 
to-day is distinctly an American 
development of the past decade or two. 
There is no room here to tell how paints, 
white lead, varnishes, stains, enamels and 
kindred products have been improved by 
the manufacturers w T ho prepare them in 
modern factories, with scientific tests of 
materials. Let any reader who wishes to 
follow those details write to the big Ameri- 
can paint houses for information. 

It is through the general magazines, with 
their national distribution, that this Gospel 
of Paint has been effectively preached. 
Both the advocates of mixed paint and of 
white lead and oil have been regularly using 
the magazine pulpit. The mixed-paint 
makers advertised their paints to the public, 
pointing out their convenience and excel¬ 
lence, while the white lead manufacturers 
laid stress on the merit of hand mixing of 
oil and white lead, and indicated methods 
of testing paint. Booklets were published 
to give people information about paint— 
how to apply it, where 
quality lies, how to make 
painting durable and eco¬ 
nomical. To-day most paint 
and white lead concerns 
help house-owners with 
color-schemes, help the 
house-painter or architect 
with tests, specifications, 
advice. 

This Gospel of Paint, as 
it has been preached in 
magazine advertising, has 
wrought wonders in this 
country. In sections where 
paint was seldom used it is 
now a matter of course. 


TJw QuomQut 
TiTiTKey 


Sent to an]) Business Man on Request 


Mr. Manufacturer: What is Jj our 
selling problem ? Do you sell your pro¬ 
duct anonymously or by name ? The 
latter plan builds up an asset that is 
yours—and the magazines could make 
that asset large. In the Quoin Club 
the 30 leading periodicals in America 
have an organization that can focus 
on your selling problem large ex¬ 
perience and trained minds. It might 
serve you—and will gladly undertake 
to do it. Address or call 

The Quoin Club 
hi Fifth Jive., j V. Y. 


In sections where it was generally used in 
the old days the uses have been greatly , 
extended. Paint brightens homes and lives. 

It is in many ways the cheapest decorative 
material. It saves property by preserving 
materials and fittings. The lightening of 
woman’s work has been perhaps best of all 
—for paint gives better sanitary conditions 
and saves an enormous amount of cleaning. 

In the old days a few merchants could 
supply all the paint materials neccessary 
for the annual or semi-annual painting 
season and the field was limited generally 
to the paint necessary for the exterior of 
house and barns. Now the economy and 
satisfaction in the touch of varnish here, 
mixed paint there, a little gilding or seme 
enamel work in another place, have been so 
convincingly taught by the manufacturers 
of these various products that the field of 
the retail dealer has been greatly widened. 
And the painter, too, though not always 
called in for the little jobs, still reaps the 
benefit because the people have developed 
a taste for well-kept property 
and he still gets the big jobs 
and more of them. 

What magazine adver¬ 
tising back of the finest 
products can accomplish in 
such an industry is shown 
by a few Census figures. Our 
paint business now approxi¬ 
mates a hundred million 
dollars yearly. Each family 
in the United States uses an 
equivalent of a gallon and a 
half of paint yearly. The 
number of manufacturers 
has doubled since 1880 , and 
their output trebled. 


78 






































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


PWHERt-TO-G 


BALTIMORE MD. 




7 ? 

a BEACONST. BOSTON 


X 

y 


Ti»a artnE- #1.50. Baltimore’s 

Inc Kenneri. leading hotel. Typical 
Southern cooking. The kitchen of this 
hotel has made Maryland cooking famous. 

Buffalo w. y. 


UntAl “Tlie Complete Hotel.” 

nOlcl olallCl, New—Elegant—Central. 
300 Rooms —300 Baths — Circuiting Ice 
Water to all rooms. European Plan. 


MOBILE ALA. 


The leading Hotels in Quaint and Historic 
Mobile are The New Battle M on He 
and The Cawthon. 
Forinformation addressHERVEY HOTEL 
COMPANY, Mobile, Ala. 

NEW ORLEANS LA 


New Hotel Denechaud. La. Centrally 

located, every modern convenience, all outside 
rooms. (Eu. Plan.) Address Justin F. Denechaud. 


NEW YORK 


Hotel Empire. raBmSSff; 

beautifully situated. Most excellent cui 
sine and service. Large rooms #1.50 per 
day; with hath #2 per day. Suites #3.50 
up. * Free Guide, w. Johnson Quinn,Prop. 


SAN FRANCISCO CAL. 


Fairmont Hotel, gJSSff'llfSSt 

cisco Bay & city h'dq'trs Army and Navy, social 
center of city. Ii. P. £2.50 up. Every room has bath.* 


Hotel SL Francis. 

clubs, shops, theatres. Every comfort. Finest hotel 
in West, |2UpE.P. Booklet free. * 


SEATTLE WASH. 


T h p P P T T* V absolutely fireproof. 
1 * ± 1 j. j Every modern con¬ 
venience. Centrally located, commanding 
a splendid marine and mountain view. 
The highest g rade. European Plan. * 

TTfttAl “12 stories of solid com- 
Odvuy iiuici. fort% ». concrete, steel & 
marble. In fashionable shopping district. 
210 rooms, 135 Baths. English grill. #1 up.* 


WASHINGTON D. C. 



Hotel Driscoll 

Facing IT. S. Capitol and 
park. New and modern. 
Convenient to points of 
interest. Excellent cui¬ 
sine. Free baths. A. and 
E.plan. Booklet mailed. 


Thp Am.A European plan 

mcouurcndlll Located iri most fash¬ 
ionable section, five minutes’ walk to White 
House. U. S. Treasury, State, War & Navy 
Departments. John T. Devine, Prop. * 


Resorts 


ALEXANDRIA LA. 


HOTEL BENTLEY. Absolutely fireproof. 
Ideally situated in the iamous Pine Belt of Louisi¬ 
ana. Hunting, Fishing, Golfing, etc. Address J. F. 
Letton, Manager, Hotel Bentley, Alexandria. La. 


AUGUSTA CA. 


Hampton Terrace. 

hotel in South. Open Jan. 5,1909. Superb 
cuisine. Golf and fine livery. Perfect 
winter climate. New management through- 
out. C. A. Wood, Mng. Director. 


ATLANTIC CITY N. J. 



Atlantic Citv maklbokough- 

1411 all 11 L Lily. BLENHEIM. 

Above illustration shows but one section of 
this magnificent and sumptuously fitted 
house—the Open Air Plaza and Enclosed 
Solariums overlook the Board-walk and the 
Ocean. Tbe environment, convenience and 
comforts of the Marlborough-Blenheim and 
the Invigorating climate at Atlantic City 
make this the ideal place for a Winter 
sojourn. Always open. Write for hand¬ 
somely illustrated booklet. Josiah White 
&, Sons, Proprietors & Directors. * 


HQTELQENNIS 



For many years this hotel has been the standard of 
excellence and becomes more popular each year on 
account of its superb location with an unobstructed 
ocean view, its liberal appointments and careful 
service. Walter J. Buzby, Owner and Manager. 


Co lAti Wall ATLANTIC CITY, N. J. 

VldlCli nd.IL Hotel and Sanatorium. 
New stone, brick & steel building. Always 
open, always ready, always busy. Table 
and attendance unsurpassed. * 


_BILTMORE N. C._ 

Kenilworth Inn. 

Vanderbilt’s famous estate. Always open. 
New management. Ideal climate. Riding, 
rOlf, Tennis. No Consumptives. 


iage 

Driving, Gol 


LONG BEACH CAL. 


LONG BEACH SANITARIU M, Battle Creek San¬ 
itarium Methods. Finest and best equipped of its 
kind west of Battle Creek. Best climate and beach 
in the world. Illustrated Booklet FREE. * 


PALM BEACH FLA. 


“PALM BEACH HOTEL.” #3 up. Accom. 400. 
Select. Weeklyratesaslowashome. Write 
now for illus. booklet. Address “Propr.” 


_ SAN DIECO CAL. 

WORLDS RENOWN KNEIPP SANITARIUM, 

San Diego, Kneipp treatments that cure without 
drugs or operation. Est. on same plan as Famous 
Kneipp Sanitarium in Germany. Booklet. 


OLCTpqTnT COMFORT VA. 

HOTEL CHAMBERLIN 

Old Point Comfort, Va. 

Situated on Historic Hampton Roads, Old 
Point combines every feature which goes 
to make up a perfect place for real restand 
recuperation. THE CLIMATE is unsur¬ 
passed the year round. THE CUISINE 
of the Chamberlin is perfect. THE HIS 
TOPIC SURROUNDINGS are unique. 

THE MEDICINAL BATHS 
AT HOTEL CHAMBERLIN 

The Baths and Sea Pool at the Chamber¬ 
lin are the finest in America. The pool is 
so perfectly ventilated and radiant with 
sunlight that you are really bathing out 
of doors. The Medicinal Department is 
complete in every detail—Nauheim Baths, 
EleetrieCabinets, Massage and Tonic Baths 
of every description. These are especially 
recommended for Insomnia, Nervousness, 
Rheumatism, Gout and kindred disorders, 
and are endorsed by the mosteminentprac- 
titioners in America. 

For further information and interesting 
illustrated booklets, address GEORGE 
F. ADAMS, Mgr., Fortress Monroe, Va. 


Travel 


AROUND PORTO RICO 

The Ideal Winter Sail on Summer Seas 

The steamer isyour hotel during the entire 
trip. With every modern convenience. Fine 
cuisine. All outside staterooms. Wireless 
telegraphy. Write for illustrated booklet. 

TOE NEW YORK & PORTO RICO STEAMSHIP CO. 
12 Broadway, New York 

Or Raymond & Whitcomb—all principal cities. 




UNIVERSITY 
TOURS 

GREECE, DALMATIA, ITALY. The Yacht 
“Athena” in Mediterranean. Writefor illustrated 
announcement. Bureau of University Travel, 49 
Trinity Place, Boston. 


THE OUTER CIRCLE 

22d Season, April 16, 1909. lat Cl»ne. Gibraltar, Morocco 
Spain, Nice, Monte Carlo, Venice, Budapcatb, Vienna, "Warsaw- 
Moscow, St. Petersburg, Finland, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, 
Hamburg, Holland, Belf^um, Paris, London. Circulars ready- 
WM. T. SHEPHERD, 643 Bojlston Street, Boston, Mass- 


MPYlPfl Daylight tours by private train. New 
ITICAILU* features. Grand Canyon of Arizona 
and California can be included. Optional route 
through Cuba. Itinerary on request. 

Oates Tours, Toledo, O. 

Also a week's Mardi Gras Tour Feb. 20th. 



EUROPE AND ORIENT 

28th Season—Limited Parties— 
Exceptional Advantages 

DR. and MRS. HOWARD S. PAINE, 
148 Ridge Street, Glens Fails, N.Y. 


intelligent European Travel 

Includes expert cultured leadership, leisurely 
itineraries, first class, every comfort and expense. 
The Cha tauqua T ours, Appleton, Wisconsin. 

i r 7 | and Riviera—Mexico—West Indies. 

ImlV class persona llyconducted Tours. 

J Gillespie-KinportsCo., i Madison Av., 
New York; go o N. 15th Street, Philadelphia. 
lA.j~American Plan; (E .) European Plan; 
* Write for further information. 


Marsters Hi^h-Class Tours 

EGYPT, HOLY LAND 
ITALY and the CONTINENT 

From New York and Boston, Jan., Feb., March. 

66 to 87 days. AROUND THE WORLD, 136 
days, Feb. to June, $1500. Summer Tours to Eu¬ 
rope at Popular Rates. 

Marsters Foreign Travel Bureau 
298 Washington SL, Boston. 31 West 30th St., New York 



NEW SERVICE TO NEW ZEALAND AND AUSTRALIA 

Delightful South Sea Tours for Rest and Pleasure. 

NEW ZEALAND, the world's wonderland, is now at its best. 
Geysers, Hot Lakes and other thermal wonders, surpassing the 
Yellowstone. The favorite S. S. Manposa sails from ban Fran- 
cisc foi Tahiti February 2, March 10, April 15, connecting with 
TJnian Line for Wellington, New Zealand. The on ly 
line from U. S. to New Zealand. Only $260 1st class to Wellington 
and back. To Tahiti and return, 1st class, $125—28-day tnp. ror 
itineraries, write 

OCEANIC LINE. 673 MARKET ST., SAN FRANCISCO 


79 















































































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


A breakfast preceded by a 
luscious Atwood Grape Fruit 
is the most healthful beginning 
to the day. 

—ATWOOD— 
GRAPE FRUIT 

N o grape fruit grown any¬ 
where in the world is quite 
so appealing in its exquisitely 
delicious flavor as the highly 
cultivated product of the AT¬ 
WOOD Grove in Florida. 
ATWOOD Grape Fruit is 
the ideal fruit for breakfast 
use. It is the solid, juice-laden 
kind, moderately tart, always 
refreshing and satisfying. 


T he ATWOOD Grove at 
Manavista, Fla., is the 
most extensive in the world. 
250 acres are devoted exclu¬ 
sively to the scientific cultiva¬ 
tion of the perfect Grape Fruit. 
A quarter million dollars ex¬ 
penditure has resulted in the 
production of ATWOOD 
Grape Fruit, the finest pro¬ 
duct of its kind ever grown. 

To serve , cut in cross sections , remove 
the core , and serve with or without 
sugar. Grape Fruit is better when 
served without ice. A TWOOD Grape 
Fruit makes the most delicious salads. 

Taken at night on retiring it is better than 
drugs. Buy it by the box,it will keep for weeks. 


The ATWOOD trade-mark on the 



wrapper is a certificaie of the per¬ 
fect product. Look 
for it when yon 
purchase. 

THE ATWOOD COMPANY 

KIMBALL C. ATWOOD. 
Pre*. and Treaa. 

290 BROADWAY 
NEW YORK 


^fiiiniiiiiiiiiift!iiiiiiniini 



iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin% 


E VENINGS when you entertain you 
will enjoy serving your guests from an 
electric chafing dish. Cooking the rare-bit 
without fire is a novelty in itself and you 
can remove the dish and use the stove for 
an electric toaster also. Each chafing dish 
is ready for immediate use, being furnished 
with a long cord and a plug that fits any 
lamp socket. There are attractive patterns, 
nickel and silver plated, shown in our 
booklet D. Why not begin the social season 
with one in your home ? 


WOT 


CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 

= Monadnock Bldg., Chicago 

%IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIW 



Two Songs With But a Single Disk 

QOlZ* Zan-o-phoae Records are now made 

r with selections on both sides for 65c., 
the lowest price ever offered for this 
** — type. No other record at any such price 

enjoys the established reputation for supreme quality, musi¬ 
cal and technical, of Znn-o-phone Records. Artistic, of 
extra length, scratchless and long-wearing, they “Double 
the Pleasure 

Single Record Disks, 50c. 

for 10-inch ; 75c. for 12-mch. 

Complete operas and all latest selections, 

Zon-o-phone machines reduce the 
cost. Ask your dealer for prices 
and lists. 

UNIVERSAL TALKING MACHINE MEG. CO. 

% Newark , N. J. 


\ 


8o 

























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



EDUCATOR 

CRACKERS 


Sent To You Free 

just to let you prove the difference between them 
and the usual crackers you buy. The distinctive 
flavor afforded by our methods of milling and bak¬ 
ing, make Educator Crackers more delicious as 
well as infinitely more nutritious than any crackers 
you’ve ever tasted. 

Your name on a postal will bring a sample box; 
please give also, the name of your grocer. All 
grocers should have Educator Crackers. If yours 
hasn’t and won’t get them, we’ll supply you direct. 

Johnson Educator Food Co., 21 ITremont Street, Boston, Mass. 





All housewives who desire to 
give their families the best, will do 
well to try Blooker’s. It’s a most 
delicious drink—healthful, digest¬ 
ible, concentrated, economical. 
With the unapproachable Blooker 
flavor in the bargain. 

Sample sent postpaid. Dept. D. 


46 Hudson Street, New York' 


MOVING PICTURE MACHINES 

You Can Make 
J BIG MONEY 

Entertaining the Public. 

Nothing affords better oppor¬ 
tunities for men with small 
capital. We start you, furnish¬ 
ing complete outfits and explicit 
instructions at a surprisingly 

THE FIELD IS LARGE low cost * 

comprising the regular theatre and lecture circuit, also local fields in Churches, 
Public Schools, Lodges and General Public Gatherings. Our Entertainment 
Supply Catalogue and special offer fully explains everything. Sent Free. 

CHICAGO PROJECTING CO., 225 Dearborn Street, Dept. Y, Chicago. 



GOODS for EVERYBODY. Cota- 
log of 200 Novelties Free. If it’s 
Electric we have it. Big Catalog 4c. 

OHIO ELECTRIC WORKS, Cleveland, Ohio 

The World's Headquarters for Dynamos, Motors. Fans. Toys, Batteries, 
Belts, Bells, Lamps, Books. We Undersell All. Want Agents. 



Knox 
Gelatine 

The one absolutely satisfactory 
solution of the dessert problem 

^ From every point of view KNOX GEL-^ 
ATINE stands out preeminently as the ideal, 
perfect dessert—the one absolutely satisfac¬ 
tory solution of the dessert problem for all 
occasions. It is so easily prepared, so easily 
digested, and so delicious that it makes an ideal 
dessert for not only the children, but the 
grown folks, who think a luncheon or dinner 
is not complete unless finished off with a sweet. 
There is such an endless variety of ways of 
preparing it, and when it comes to the table 
it is a refreshing relief 
from the monotony 
of heavy pies and in¬ 
digestible puddings. 
KNOX GELATINE 
can be used in making 
not only desserts, but 
salads, sherbets, w^ter 
ices, creams, candies, 
etc. Here is a recipe 
for a very popular 
candy. Try it. 

TURKISH DELIGHT 

1 box Knox Sparkling Gelatine, 1 large juicy orange, 

1 lemon, 1 lb. granulated sugar. 

Soak Gelatine in ? cup cold water 10minutes. Put sugar 
on stove in § cup cold water, and when it comes to boiling 
point add the Gelatine. _ Boil slowly but steadily for 20 
minutes; add the grated rind and juice of the orange and the 
juice of the lemon (there should be * large cup of fruit 
juice). Wet tin with cold water and pour in the mixture to 
the depth of one inch. When firmly set immerse mold in 
warm water ; turn out and cut in 
cubesandroll inconfectionery sugar 
to which has been added a teaspoon¬ 
ful of cornstarch. Vary by using 
different fruit juices, flavorings and 
colorings. 

My book u Dainty Desserts for 
Dainty People,” which I send 
free on request, gives recipes for 
making all kinds of desserts, etc., 
but I shall be glad to answer any 
questions about Gelatine or any 
special desserts, and if you have 
any trouble in deciding what des¬ 
sert to use for any occasion, 
write me. 

rprr For the name and address of 
r I\LL y 0ur jrrocer I will send my 
illustrated recipe book, “Dainty Desserts 
for Dainty People.'* If he doesn't sell 
KNOX GELATINE, send me 2c. in 

stamps and I will send you a full pint package, or I?* 5 *’ ; a n .V 
quart package (stamps taken). A copy of the 1 

“The First Lesson,'' will be sent for one empty KNOX GELA¬ 
TINE box and 10c. in stamps. The picture is a fine work of art 
and an ornament to any home. 

CHARLES B. KNOX, 1 Knox Ave., Johnstown, N. Y. 




Si 

































McClure's—The Marketplace of the World 


When buying Commercial Stationery 
and Envelopes insift on a comparison 
of papers, for a comparison will 
strengthen your good opinion of 

©tratbmore Qarcbment 

I T will show a more beautiful, brighter, clearer, cleaner, 

White sheet and a better quality. You will also find 
three distinct surfaces to select from: Glazed, Linen and 
Telanian. These are three advantages of STRATH¬ 
MORE PARCHMENT and, besides, it doesn’t coft 
any more than papers not so good. 

I N buying paper for the body or cover of a book or 
catalogue, or for any advertising printed thing, ask 
your printer to show you the “STRATHMORE 
QUALITY” Book and Cover Papers. They are as 
good in their classes as STRATHMORE PARCH¬ 
MENT is in its class. 


E will send samples of any or all kinds to re¬ 
sponsible business men. 

MITTINEAGUE PAPER COMPANY, MITTINEAGUE, MASS., U. S. A. 


w 



The "Strathmore Quality" Milli 


Don’t Throw it Awa: 




They mend all leaks in all utensils—tin 
brass,copper.graniteware, hot water bags 
etc. No solder, cement or rivet. Anyone 
= a * can use them; tit any surface; two million 
in use. Send for sample pkg. 10 c, Complete 
pkg assorted alias, 25 c postpaid. Aren ts wanted. 
Collette Mlg. Go., Box 154 Amsterdam, N. T 


CHINESE JADE 

Set in 24-K pure gold only, by our own Chinese gold¬ 
smiths. This Chinese gem is rare, beautiful and very 
fashionable in Scarf Pins, Rings, Pendants, Bracelets, 
etc. Exclusive Oriental designs submitted. Personal 
crests and initials executed in Chinese Characters if 
desired. Booklet No. 9 , interesting Chinese history, 
jewelry in colors on request, send 2c, stamp. No Agents. 

BROCK A* FEAGANS, Importing Jewelers 
Brock & Feagans Building, Los Angeles, California. 


v\u// v 



Geisha Diamonds 

THE LATEST SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERY 
Bright, sparkling, beautiful. They are re¬ 
markably brilliant and few people besides 
experts can tell them from the genuine. 
One twentieth the expense. Sent free with 
privilege of examination. For particulars, 
prices, etc., address 

THE R. GREGG MFG. & IMPT. CO. 
Dept. 12, 52-58 ff. Jacks an Baal. Chicago, III. 

Stallman’s Dresser Trunk 

Protects the light from the heavy, the clean 
from the soiled. Everything at your fin¬ 
ger's end. No rummaging. No tray-lifting. 
Easy to pack. No need to unpack. No 
mussed garments. Nine compartments. 
Strongest, roomiest, most convenient trunk. 
Costs no more than old box style. Sent 
C. O. D. privilege of examination. Book¬ 
let sent for 2c stamp. 

FRANK A. STALLMAN, S3 Spring SL.Columbus.O. 


82 























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Welch's 

Grape Juice 

Purity in grape juice means plain grape juice; 
that is, juice as you find it in the grape. 

Purity is loft by putting in preservatives or by 
adding coloring matter, or by diluting the juice or 
by lack of care in any ftep in manufacture. 

Welch’s Grape Juice is pure. The juice from 
the grapes we use needs nothing to prevent spoil¬ 
ing, nothing to heighten its color and nothing to 
enhance its food value. 

The grapes are inspected before they are 
washed, washed before they are stemmed and 
stemmed before they are pressed. 

They are the choiceft Concords grown in the 
famous Chautauqua vineyards. We have learned 
how to transfer the juice from the luscious 
clufters to the bottle unchanged in any way. 

If your dealer doesn’t keep Welch’s, send $3.00 for 
trial dozen pints, express prepaid eait of Omaha. Booklet 
of forty delicious ways of using Welch’s Grape Juice free. 
Sample 3-oz. bottle by mail, 10c. 

The Welch Grape Juice Co., Westfield, N. Y. 



Seeds, Plants, Roses 

Bulbs, Vines, Shrubs, Fruit and Orna¬ 
mental Trees. The best by 55 years' 
test. 1200 acres, 50 in Hardy Roses, 
none better grown. 44 greenhouses 
of Palms, Ferns, Ficus, Everb looming 
Roses, etc. Seeds, Plants, Roses, Bulbs, 
Small Trees, etc., by mail postpaid. 
Safe arrival and satisfaction guaran¬ 
teed. Immense stock of CHOICE 
CANNAS, queen of bedding plants. 
Fifty choice collections cheap in Seeds, Plants, Roses, etc. 
Elegant 168-page Catalog FREE. Send for it today and see 
what values we give for a little money. 

THE STORKS & HARRISON CO„ Box 15, Painesville. O. 



STEREOPTICONS 

With approved equipment for the Lec¬ 
ture Hall, School, Church and Lodge. 
Views covering all subjects for instruc¬ 
tion and amusement. Profits assured 
in giving public entertainments, small 
capital required. Write for catalogue. 


HeALLISTER MFC. OPTICIANS, Dept. 10, 49 Nassau 8t„ New Torh 


Established 1783 * 


FERg* 


Ferry’s are best because every year the re¬ 
tailer gets a new supply, freshly tested and put 
up. You run no risk of poorly kept or remnant 
stocks. We take the pains; you get the results. 
Buy of the best equipped and most expert seed 
growers in America. It is to our advantage to J 
satisfy you. We will. For sale everywhere. / 
Our 1909 Seed Annual tree. Write to 
D. M. FERRY & CO. 
Detroit, IVlIcti. 


83 



















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



This Beautiful Teaspoon Given 

to any housewife who sends us a metal top from a jar of 


LIEBIG 


Company’s 
Extract of Beef 


and 10 cents (stamps or silver) for expenses Be sure to buy the genuine Liebig with 
blue signature, and address Corneille David & Co., Dept. B, 120 Hudson St., New York. 

We want you to know by trial that Liebig’s is the most delicious, most wholesome, and most economical 
Beef Extract made; * teaspoonful makes a cup of beef tea. As an inducement to try Liebig’s we offer you, 
practically free, Wm. Rogers & Sons newest rose pattern, extra heavy plated Teaspoons finished m French 
gray” like the very latest solid silver, of full size and entirely free from advertising. With every spoon goes 
the manufacturer’s guarantee certificate. After you get one spoon you will be so pleased with it that you 
will begin saving the jar tops to get a full set; and then you’ll want our fork, full sized and of same beautiful 
rose pattern, with same heavy silver plating, which we send for one jar top and 20 cents in stamps or silver for 
expenses. This shows, in reduced size 



The elegant gift fork we offer 




The Housekeeper’s Interest ^ 

Hk centers on her dining ta- lj 

maSSi ble, the chief charm of l 
which is the Silver and J 
JsS? Glassware. 

To have their appearance perfect, 3 
they should be cleaned with 


usaa 

ilicoN 


' It imparts an unsurpassed beauty and brilliancy— 
f easily and quickly—and does not scratch or wear. 
Send address for FREE SAMPLE. 
or 15c. in stamps for full sized box, post-paid. £•- 

The Electro Silicon Co., 30 Cliff St., N. Y. ly gSjjj 

Sold by Grocers and Druggists. 



for Whooping: Cough 
Croup, Sore Throat 
Coughs, Bronchitis 
Colds, Diphtheria 

“ Used while you sleep.” Catarrh. 

Vaporized Cresolene stops the paroxysms of 
Whooping Cough. Ever dreaded Croup cannot 
exist where Cresolene is used. 

It acts directly on the nose and throat making 
breathing easy in the case of colds; soothes the 
sore throat and stops the cough. 

Cresolene is a powerful germicide acting both 
as a curative and preventive in contagious diseases. 

It is a boon to sufferers from Asthma. 

Cresolene’s best recommendation is its 30 
years of successful use. 

For Sale By All Druggists. 

Send Postal /or Descriptive Booklet. 

Cresolene Antiseptic Throat Tablets for the irrita¬ 
ted throat, of your druggist or from us, 10c. in stamps. 

THE VAPO-CRESOLENE CO., 180 Fulton St., New York 

| Leemlng-Mlles Building:, Montreal, Canada 


84 









































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Dioxogen is the standard antiseptic for cleansing 
mouth, teeth, throat, cuts, wounds, sores, burns, etc., 
and for keeping sound membranes from becoming infected. 

Its only active ingredient is Oxygen—the same oxygen that 
you breathe in the air every day. Dioxogen is so harmless 
that children can play with it without danger. With it you can 
easily teach children to clean their teeth and mouth daily. 

YOU CAN SEE IT WORK 

* 

Dioxogen bubbles whenever it touches decomposing substances such 
as lodge between the teeth, in tooth cavities, or in wounds and sores. It 
will not bubble when it touches healthy tissues containing no infectious matter. 
Hence when you use Dioxogen and it bubbles, you know that it is cleansing 
the tissues and removing the germs and germ products which produce diseased 
conditions. Dioxogen leaves injured or infected tissues in the best possible 
condition to heal quickly. 

Rinse your mouth with Dioxogen and see how it bubbles 
even after you have brushed your teeth carefully with any other 
preparation and think they are clean. Gargle your throat with 
Dioxogen after smoking, or whenever there is irritation and 
note how it bubbles as it finds and disinfects decomposing matter 
hidden in cavities never reached by other means. As a conclusive 
test, gargle with any ordinary antiseptic, and then immediately 
gargle with Dioxogen, and see how much more thorough 
Dioxogen does its work. Dioxogen has hundreds of 
other uses in the home which can be learned only by using it. 

Three sizes, 25c., 50c., and 75c., at all dealers. 

Sold only in sealed packages. 




£ 

IHoxo°ew 


RSLtiwdf.^ 




There ii only one Dioxogen. If anything else is offered as “the same as,*' or 
" as good as," Dioxogen, you will conserve your own interests by refusing it. You 
will prevent misunderstandings and annoying controversies by always asking for 
Dioxogen by name and examining the package to see that it is genuine. If any 
dealer tries to persuade you that some other article is the equal of Dioxogen, write to 
us and we will gladly explain the proven facts regarding the superiority of Dioxogen. 

SAMPLE BOTTLE FREE 

on receipt of the attached coupon signed with your 
name and address. 

THE OAKLAND CHEMICAL CO. 

NEW YORK Sfc. 


W w: 

, an,, A POWERFUL W ^ 
F0Ri£ EPnC AND DI51HF><J- 

T 

Tl| E()Ati-Uu^OX 

The 

Oakland 
Chemical Co., 
r ^ 437 W. B'way, N.Y. 

r Please mail the free 

r sample of Dioxogen as adver- 

yr tised in McClure's, Jan., 1909. 

Name . 

Addrers. 


85 

























McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World- 


Was It Insured? 

Everybody asks this question after a 
fire. The next question, which is just 
as important, “What Company?” no¬ 
body asks. The property owners of 
America pay annually three hundred 
million dollars in premiums for fire 
insurance, but not one in ten of them 
knows even the name of the Company 
whose policy may be his only asset in 
case of disaster. Do YOU know? 

If not, what an astonishing state of 
affairs for an enlightened businesslike 
American citizen! 

If you do know the name of the Com¬ 
pany, what do you know of its stand¬ 
ing or its reputation for fair dealing ? 

The Hartford Fire Insurance 
Company for ninety-nine years has 
paid promptly every just claim, so that 
to-day it does the largest fire insurance 
business in America. When next you 
insure tell your agent you want to 

Insure in the Hartford 

Losses paid "Cash without Discount" 
AGENTS EVERYWHERE 


86 




McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



1NO, 

You Have 
Never Tasted 
Pineapple 

^ If you have ever cut the fresh 
ripe fruit from a Hawaiian pine¬ 
apple plant and sliced and eaten it 
on the spot we owe you an apology 
for the assertion; but if you have 
not done just this, we believe our 
statement that you have never 
tasted pineapple is true. 

Most people say the flavor of pine¬ 
apple is delicious, BUT 

the fruit is so tough and so stringy; 
it bites the tongue and actually 
makes the mouth sore. 

Yes; all this proves that they have 
never tasted pineapple. 


Hawaiian Pineapple 
is so different 


The best variety of pineapple this 
earth ever produced raised on a kindly 
soil which brings it to perfection; picked 
when perfect (and no fruit is perfect 
until it is fully ripened), sliced, cored and 
canned on the plantations almost the 
next minute and sealed before a tithe 
of the exquisite aroma has escaped. 

Just open a can of it and see; yes 
and catch the fragrance and taste a 
slice ; only one slice, and you will say, 
too, “I never tasted pineapple before.” 

The flesh is tender without a trace 
of woody fibre; the flavor rich, yet 
delicate, and without a suggestion of 
the disagreeable “bite” which makes 
all the fresh pineapple that comes to 
our market so disappointing, and all 
the ordinary canned pineapple so 
thoroughly unsatisfactory. 

Yes, our contention is that Hawaiian 
Canned Pineapple is better and more 


delicious than any fresh pineapple that 
comes to your table, because the fresh 
pineapple—seldom of the best variety— 
is picked green, to ripen as it may, while 
the Hawaiian is fully ripened and canned 
so quickly that all its luscious flavor is 
sealed up with it. 

Hawaiian Pineapple contains 
nothing but fresh fruit and pure 
granulated sugar. It is put up 
only in sanitary cans preventing 
contamination by solder or acid. 

No human hand touches the fruit 
in peeling or packing. 

You can buy Hawaiian Pineapple in 
three forms, Sliced, Crushed or Grated 
at your grocer’s. The sliced pineapple is 
usually served just as it comes from the 
can; the crushed or grated kinds are 
delicious for sherberts, ices, pastry, pud¬ 
dings, and many other desserts. 

Send for booklet Hawaiian Pineappla, 

containing tested recipes for this most 
excellent of all preserved fruits. 


HAWAIIAN PINEAPPLE GROWERS' ASSOCIATION, Tribune Building, New York 




















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



The Coffee-Charm 


A Grocer’s Own 
Story 

By John E. Kennedy 


E SEATED, Mrs. Brown I 

“ I have just seen a new light on Coffee ! ” 
said the Grocer. 

“ And I want you to see it too. 

“ Coffee, to most of us, is just a flavor , you know. 
“ Now there is quite as much difference between 
Coffee flavors as there is between Candy flavors. 

“ We drink Coffee every day, however, while 
we eat Candy only occasionally. 

“So, it is clearly worth while finding out, once 
for all, the precise kind of coffee flavor that best 
pleases our individual tastes. 

“Until now this would have been a big un¬ 
dertaking. 

“ Because, one would have had to sample hun¬ 
dreds of different varieties and Brands. 

“Andthen onecouldn’t be sure of gettingthesame 
flavor twice in succession; even from the same source. 

44 But it is different now . 


44 One of these flavors is labelled, you will see, 
‘Vigoro’ Bakerized Coffee. 

“It is described as ‘a robust, fuming aromatic, 
stimulating Coffee — full of uplift, spicy odor and gen¬ 
erous flavor. 

41 No mistaking the character of that Coffee, 
Mrs. Brown! 

“Another tin is labelled ‘Barrington Hall’ 
Baker-ized Coffee. 

(“ You have heard of that before.) 

“ Deliciously smooth and fragrant, mellow, fine 
and satisfying—as the label says. 

“The remaining tin is branded ‘Siesta’Baker¬ 
ized Coffee. 

“And it is described as ‘of mild and dainty 
flavor, full of subtle delicacy and bouquet. A delight to 
the palate rather than a stimulant to the nervous system. 

“ Strong, medium and mild, you see. 



“ Here, in my hand, Mrs. Brown, I hold a 
1 Find-Out Package’ of Baker-ized Coffee. 

“ We will open it up ! 

14 You see it contains four different boxes, all of 
equal size. 

“Three of these contain over ^ of a pound 
of Baker-ized Coffee. 

“ The fourth contains Coffee Chaff 

“ This latter consists of the thin cellulose skin or 
woody fibre that is folded between the two halves of 
the Bean. 

“Taste this chaff, Mrs. Brown, and you will 
find it weedy, bitter and nauseous. 

41 Yet it is included in all ground Coffee that you 
buy, and in all Bean Coffee that you grind yourself. 

“Naturally it smothers the finer flavors of the 
Coffee oil. 

“ That’s why it is taken out of Baker-ized Coffee. 

“The Chaff is useless. It is included in the 
1 Find-out Package ' without charge, merely to show 
what is eliminated. 


‘ Now for the other three boxes. 

“ These contain the three primary flavors of true, 
purified Coffee. 


“Now, Mrs. Brown, there lies before you the 
whole gamut of flavor and character in Coffee. 

“ Moreover, these flavors and characteristics are 
as changeless as the sun, from year to year. 

“ Because they are synthetic flavors—built up to 
certain fixed standards of flavor from the world’s differ¬ 
ing Coffees. 

“ I want you to huy\ and take home with you, one 
of these 1 Find-Out Packages ’ of Baker-ized Coffee, 
Mrs. Brown. 

“Just find out once for all, which flavor you like 
best (or which combination of flavors). 

“ We have all three in stock, packed in sealed 

tins. 

“ The price of ‘ Find-Out Packages’? Only 30 
cents for the big 30 cents’ worth of Coffee it contains.” 


Price of Baker-ized Coffee, any flavor, 35 to 40 
cents per pound, according to locality. 

The “ Find-Out Package” will be sent express 
paid on receipt of 30 cents, stamps or coin. 

Send for it to-day. Baker Importing Co., 118 
Hudson Street, New York, or 212 N. 2nd Street, 
Minneapolis, Minn. 


88 


















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Charlotte a la Princesse 

Made with 

NABISCO 

SUGAR WAFERS 



No other dessert confection has 
ever so satisfied that wholesome 
desire for a delicate sweet as 

NABISCO 

SUGAR WAFERS. 



In ten cent tins 

Also in twenty-five cent tins. 

-RECIPE- 


Remove center from a six-sided fruit cake and fill with 
Cocoanut Macaroons that have been soaked in lemon 
ayrup, then spread over layer of apricot preserve. 
Cover edges with Nabisco Sugar Wafers; keep in posi¬ 
tion with Royal Icing. Ornament corners with almond 
paste. Tie around with pretty ribbon. Before serving 
fill up center with whipped sweetened cream. Decorate 
with Festlnos and chopped Pistachio nuts. 



FESTINO Another dessert 

conlection in the lorm o( an almond 
enclosing a kernel ol delicious cream. 


NATIONAL BISCUIT COMPANY 



89 
















































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Trade 


Mark 


PORCELAIN ENAMELED 

Baths and Lavatories 

because of their thorough sanitary efficiency, their srtowy beauty, 
and unusual 


first create, then perpetuate 
health, and make your bathroom as attrac- , 
tive and inviting as any room in the house. 


Send for Our new book, 
Our Book “Modem Bath- 

rooms,’’ is beau¬ 
tifully illustrated. It describes 
in detail a series of up-to-date 
bathrooms and tells you just 
how to secure the best possible 
equipment at the least possible 
cost. 'When you buy new 
bathroom fixtures you’ll need 
this book. Send for it now 

Enclose f) cents postage and 
%ive us name of your archi¬ 
tect and plumber if selected. 


go 














McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 


BANKERS TRUST 

COMPANY 


7 Wall Street, New York 


Capital.$1,000,000 

Surplus and Undivided Profits . 1,180,200 

Exceptional Advantages to Depositors 

I T is an exceptional advantage to do 
business with an institution such as 
the Bankers Trust Company, whose 
affairs are directed by a group of the 
nation’s representative financiers. 

It is an exceptional advantage to 
customers seeking secure investments 
to be able to draw on the knowledge 
and experience of the ablest judges of 
value and security. 

Interest is allowed on deposits. 

Out of town accounts solicited. 

DIRECTORS 

Stephen Baker Henry P, Davison Edgar L. Marston Gilbert G. Thorne 

Samuel G. Bayne Walter E. Frew George W, Perkins Edward Townsend 

Edwin M. Bulkley Frederick T. Haskell William H. Porter Albert H. Wiggin 
James G. Cannon A. Barton Hepburn Daniel G. Reid Samuel Woolvbrton 

Edmund C. Converse Thomas W. Lamont Edward F. Swinnky Edward F. C. Young 
Gates W. McGarrah John F. Thompson 


Inquiries are invited as to the Company’s functions 
as Executor, Administrator, and Guardian; as Fiscal 
Agent, and as Trustee for Individuals and Corporations. 


91 






















McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



C OLLAIAS 


Cluett Peabody 8 Co. 449 River St. Troy. IV. Y Booklet on Request 

92 































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Dress Shirts 

fit every man and 
every function - 

SI 50 

A and up 


93 





































































McClure’s—The Marketplace of the World 



Mr. Edison made all sound-reproducing instruments 
possible but he perfected the Edison Phonograph. 


AMBEROL RECORDS 

EDISON PHONOGRAPHS 


are Mr. Edison’s newest and greatest inven¬ 
tion. They are no larger than the regular 
Records, but hold twice as much music and 
play twice as long. 


Every Edison Phonograph in existence, except the 
Gem, can be equipped with an attachment to play 
these new Records as well as the old Records. 

There are new Records fresh every month 
for the Amberol Records as well as for the old 
Records. All new machines are equipped to play 
both. Any old machine can be easily equipped to 


play both by consulting a dealer. A full line of 
Edison Phonographs can be heard and both kinds 
of Records can be enjoyed at the store of any 
dealer anywhere in the United States. 

There is no excuse for anyone to be without 
the pleasure that is furnished by an Edison Phono¬ 
graph. 


One of the greatest pleasures which the Edison Phonograph affords is making Records at 
home. The Edison is the only type of machine with which this can be done. 

Edison Phonographs are sold at the same prices everywhere and to everyone. Prices range 
from $12.50 to $125.00 

Edison Amberol Records, 50c. Regular Edison Records, 35c. Grand Opera Records, 75c. 
Ask your dealer or write to us for illustrated catalogue of Edison Phonographs, also cata¬ 
logue containing complete lists of Edison Records, old and new. 

NATIONAL PHONOGRAPH COMPANY, 20 Lakeside Avenue, Orange, N.J. 

New York, 10 Fifth Ave.; London, Victoria Road, Willesden j Sydney, N.S.W., 840 Kent St.; Mexico City, 
Avenida Oriente No. 117; Buenos Aires, Viamonte 515; Berlin, Sud-Ufer, 24-125; Paris, 42 Rue do Paradis. 



THE EDISON BUSINESS PHONOGRAPH means shorter hours for the business man 


94 







Watch the 


'"■“''HERE is no “substitute” for Shredded Wheat Biscuit, but it is just 
-*■ as well to watch the grocer’s basket when it comes. When you 
order Shredded Wheat you want 


SHREDDED WHEAT 


\ FTER once tasting the crisp, delicious shreds of baked wheat you 
^ will not be satisfied with mushy porridges. Food fads may come 
and go, but Shredded Wheat goes on forever. Always pure, always 
clean, always nutritious, always the same. Fresh from our two million 
dollar sunlit bakery—a million and a quarter Biscuits every day in the 
year. 



Shredded Wheat is made in only two forms, BISCUIT and TRISCUIT—the Biscuit for 
breakfast with milk or cream or for any meal with fresh or preserved fruits. Triscuit (the 
Shredded Wheat Wafer) used as a TOAST for any meal with 
butter, cheese or marmalades. Shredded Wheat is the whole 
wheat cleaned, steam-cooked, shredded and twice baked. The 
process is protected by forty-one patents in the United States, 

Canada and Europe. Both the Biscuit and Triscuit should be 
heated in the oven (to restore crispness) before using. Our new 
illustrated cook book is sent free for the asking. 


THE ONLY “BREAKFAST FOOD” MADE IN BISCUIT FORM 


THE SHREDDED WHEAT CO., NIAGARA FALLS, N. Y. 








W ITHOUT forgetting that, after all, a motor car is a piece 
of machinery, the Pierce Arrow has never failed to offer 
its owner the highest luxury also. 

Here is the Pierce Runabout, the same effective Pierce 
chassis, fitted with a smaller body, combining all of the effi¬ 
ciency of the Pierce engine with the convenience of a runabout. 

24 H. P. 36 H. P. 

Two Passenger Runabout, $3,050 $3,700 

Three Passenger Runabout, 3,100 3,750 

Besides the Runabout the other new 1909 Pierce models The Pierce Arrow Cars will be exhibited in New York only 
include TOURING CARS, BROUGHAMS, SUBURBANS, at the Madison Square Garden Show, January 16 to 23, 1909, 
LANDAUS and LANDAULETTES, 24 to 60 H. P., 4 and and at the salesroom of our New York representatives, THE 
6 Cylinder. HARROLDS MOTOR CAR CO.. 233 West 54th Street. 

THE GEORGE N. PIERCE COMPANY ( 5d ) BUFFALO, N. Y. 


THE CHARLES SCHWEINLER PRESS